Flowers For A Ghost
by shattered petal
Summary: –– She was shaking under his touch, and he felt the tears slide down her cheeks while he held her close. A terrible, relieved smile reached his lips. His voice was stable, calm. "It's okay, Matsumoto. I'm not going anywhere."
1. Windows

_- I know your face all too well, still I wake up alone  
__Fiction when we're not together -_

* * *

**Title**: Flowers For A Ghost  
**Genres**: Romance/Angst  
**Rating**: T (for now)  
**Couple**: HitsuMatsu

* * *

Flowers For A Ghost  
**Chapter 1.**

* * *

This time, there was no urgency. Silence fluttered the room, and he was wrapped in a sheet of ice, soothed and barely breathing. His heart thumped, weakly, battling against the dreams which rattled in his mind. It had been a very long time since Captain Hitsugaya endured dreams. Not ones of smiles and laughs. Usually, his dreams were filled with darkness and dread, of monsters who loved to come out and play. That was why he always awoke so suddenly, sweating, panicking, dizzy, _scared_. Except this morning. This morning it was different.

A dream took control of his mind that night, but there were no monsters, there were no hands grabbing onto him and pulling his body apart. Instead, he was a child, running with a girl; she was faster than him, and he struggled to keep up. The further she ran, the less he could see, and soon, she was out of sight. It came so quickly: his sight was lost in an instant, and that was where his dream ended.

During his dream, he felt no fear. Not even panic. He was aware that the girl was leaving him, refusing to wait, but he wasn't scared; he didn't scream at her to wait. It almost seemed as if he were surrendering, _wanting_ to lose sight of her. So why did he wake up, breathless, sweating, and frightened? It didn't add up. It didn't make sense.

_A soldier does not suffer nightmares, and a soldier does __**not**__ endure fear_.

Tōshirō whipped off his sheets and fell to the ground, quickly scrambling to his feet and opening the curtains. Light beamed in through the window, making him squint and retreat. A headache was coming on (again), and he could feel his knees wobbling. For the moment, he tried to keep calm. It had only been a dream and the way his body responded should not be acknowledged. Now, he was in control of his emotions and limbs.

Grabbing his shaving foam and razor, Tōshirō glanced at himself in the mirror and almost didn't recognise the reflection. When was the last time he shaved? A white stubby beard was growing, and he couldn't believe he hadn't noticed his appearance until today. The dark rings under his eyes were the least bit inspiring. Smothering the lower part of his face with shaving foam, Tōshirō removed the facial hair, accidentally nicking himself at his jawline.

Damn it. Sighing, he studied the wound in the mirror. It was bleeding terribly. _Damn it, damn it_. Washing his face, Tōshirō dabbed the injury with a tissue until the bleeding finally ceased. Dressed, Tōshirō headed for work without any breakfast. The day was slow and gradual, and when Hitsugaya returned to the office from a meeting he hoped his Lieutenant would be busy with paperwork. He was surprised to see her _cleaning_ _the windows_ instead_._

_How can anyone procrastinate **that** hard_?

'Get down from there, Lieutenant. You can wipe the windows _after_ you've finished work.'

'The dirt was distracting me. I can't focus on my work if I'm distracted,' Rangiku replied, refusing to return to her desk. Tōshirō rolled his eyes, but had to admit it had been a long time since the windows were given any attention. However, something told him she wasn't wiping the windows because she _just _wanted to avoid work. There was another issue as well.

A long time ago, he might have scolded her for slacking off, but now he decided to turn a blind eye. The Captain glanced over at her pile of work, frowned, and sat behind his desk. For a moment, he just sat there, listening to the squeaks of Rangiku's cloth against the windows. It then occurred to him Rangiku had been wiping in the same place for the past five minutes, and that her eyes were focussed on what was happening outside.

Tōshirō was on his feet again, joining her. 'You can't just wipe one part of the window. Other parts need attention too.' Snatching the cloth from her, he rubbed out a mark.

'I was doing fine on my own, Captain. You doubt me that much?'

'No. I just noticed you weren't really wiping them,' Tōshirō looked at her. 'Either you're killing as much time as possible, or something is on your mind, and you're not sure what to do about it.'

'Maybe I just like being thorough,' she teased, grabbing the cloth from him.

Tōshirō narrowed his brows. 'I highly doubt that.' Thorough? Thorough just wasn't in Rangiku's dictionary, especially when it came to tedious tasks like these. The faster it was done, the better. 'You know I hate it when you lie to me, and I know when you're lying. Actually, as we're discussing this, it might be worth me mentioning you haven't been very honest with me recently _anyway_.'

'I have no idea what you're talking about.'

'Really?' Hitsugaya challenged. 'I distinctly remember the other day that you said you had to attend a Vice-Captain meeting. There wasn't one. I later discovered you used that as an excuse to get out of work. Oh, and I still have the paperwork you allegedly completed. If you'd like it back, I left it where it was, under the floorboard.'

Rangiku inhaled. 'Someone's been busy.'

'Yes, someone _has_. I just wish this someone was you.'

Wait –– was he _telling her off_? Rangiku caught his gaze and almost winced. His irises seemed to glow, daring her to respond. From where she stood, she could _feel_ his spiritual pressure, how it slowly circled around her body, chilling the blood which ran through her veins. She shivered once, and decided it would be wise to just stare out of the window. That was a far nicer view. Over the years, Tōshirō had grown, his appearance maturing, until he finally looked like a man.

There was no problem with this. However, it was how _dark_ he managed to look. His tanned skin was a shocking contrast to his snow-white hair, which was messy and untamed. The Captain's eyes were still as proud as a wild beast's, but they now possessed this distant anger in them, and Rangiku wasn't sure why. Tōshirō was brilliant at covering his emotions. She hadn't witnessed him furious for such a long time. Only Rangiku would be able to analyse his features so well, though.

'I don't want my windows to be cleaned, Matsumoto. I want you to obey my commands.'

'When have I _ever_ not obeyed your––' That was when she noticed the cut across his jawline where the razor had caught him. 'You're bleeding,' she said, carefully dabbing her fingertip against the wound just to be sure. She was right. 'Are you incapable of looking after yourself, Captain? Or do I have to come round and babysit you?'

Groaning, Hitsugaya allowed the Shinigami to fetch a tissue from her desk and wipe away the blood from his jaw. Tōshirō's gaze dropped, watching Rangiku, trying to catch her eye but when she raised her head to look at him, he turned his attention away.

'You look better shaved, Captain.'

At first, he was insulted, then realised she was only throwing him a compliment. Or, better, _advice_. Nodding, he waited until Rangiku had removed the blood. 'Thank you.' A pause. A small, uncertain twitched across his lips. 'You have paperwork to complete.' It wasn't what she wanted to hear, and he felt his heart drop when she placed the cloth back into his hands and found her desk.

Sitting down himself, Tōshirō placed the cloth away, and began to organise his paperwork and write away. He was a machine, unable to be stopped, not even splitting his focus to whoever required his attention. Tōshirō much preferred to remain undisturbed, and, thankfully, Rangiku was there to make sure his privacy was guaranteed. When he was half way through, he swiftly flicked his gaze to his sleeping Lieutenant.

A roll of the eyes. 'Matsumoto!'

At once Rangiku jumped in her seat, blinked several times, confused. Tōshirō shook his head and returned to work. Matsumoto sleeping on the job wasn't so bad. At least she wasn't skipping off somewhere.

'If you keep waking me up like that, Captain, I'm _bound_ to have a heart attack.'

Tōshirō pulled a crooked smile. 'Good. That would mean less noise.'

_Wow_. Rangiku threw him a look. 'Charming, Sir.' Then she tutted. 'You'd hate not having me around.'

'Maybe.' She recognised that expression and, for a couple of seconds, she allowed herself to smile before quickly letting it vanish. No way she was giving him the pleasure of knowing he made her laugh. Tōshirō wasn't an idiot, though. Whatever the situation, he always noticed her smiles; they were full of life, and made his life that much brighter. She, in every way, _was_ bright. Even though he would never admit this to her, Tōshirō would fall into a pit of darkness if she were no longer by his side.

If anything, she was the only individual he knew who could see some positive element in the world, and he would always treasure that. Treasure _her_.

The office fell into silence again, and after a few more hours, he heard Rangiku stand to her feet and approach his desk. From the corner of his eye, he watched her grab the cloth from the desk and continue wiping the windows. Tōshirō pretended to not notice, but, instantly, he started wondering why she automatically hurried over to distract her mind like that. It might not have been the paperwork which directly affected her, but it was something else. Something horrifying.

When the clock struck four in the afternoon, Tōshirō stopped writing. He looked over at Rangiku, who had now given up wiping completely, eyes on whatever was out there, allowing her mind to drift. Tōshirō wanted to ask what was wrong, what had made her act this way. Then, he realised: that was none of his business. If wiping the windows, or doing something utterly ridiculous like that helped her get through the workday, then so be it.

But... he still wasn't satisfied. There was _something wrong_.

'I'm meeting Abarai for some training. You have a good evening, Matsumoto.'

A quick nod, but she barely heard his words. Tōshirō paused, then allowed his heart to split in two. It was so obvious what was wrong, and he cursed himself bitterly when leaving the office. Was this disappointment? Disappointment it took him _this_ long to realise what was wrong? Why, her unusual behaviour had been frequent for quite a while. He had just never witnessed it like that before, never witnessed her character switch, and he knew she also noticed. Noticed that her mentality was beginning to crumble.

Yet, even though he knew what was wrong, why did it affect him so? The last time Tōshirō felt this way was–– _years_ ago. It was as if her misery had unlocked a door within him, and released the dread. Exhaling slowly, he stopped walking through the hallways and closed his eyes. There was no reason for panic or frustration. He had to remain calm. Many feared his anger and rage, and they had good reason to. Out of the majority of powerful Shinigami, Tōshirō was one of the most frightening.

* * *

'That's all?'

_Slam_!

'... Ah, bloody hell, Hitsugaya! You can be such a drama queen–– Oi!'

_Wam_! Blood sprayed across the floor, and the redheaded Shinigami flew back. Wiping his wounded cheek, he looked over at the younger man. A devilish grin reached his lips, and, grabbing his zanpakutō, he positioned himself properly before darting towards the Captain.

'_Zabimaru_, "Roar"!'

Like a whip, his zanpakutō came for Hitsugaya. In a flash, the Captain dodged out of the way, but Renji was prepared for this. He jolted his arm back, allowing _Zabimaru_ to swerve and cut across Tōshirō's cheek. Hitsugaya seethed, shocked he allowed himself to get hurt, and by an _insubordinate_ too. Was he distracted? By what? Surely he wasnt––

'Quit worrying over what's for dinner, Captain, and focus on what's happening _here_!'

'_Hy__ō__rinmaru_, "Sit Upon The Frozen Heavens"!'

'That's more like it.'

A dragon of ice roared, bursting from Hitsugaya's zanpakutō and aiming straight for Renji's, jaws open. Renji had _Zabimaru _attempt to slice through the dragon's neck, which, at first, appeared successful. However, Tōshirō was stronger than he assumed. The dragon was in his control very quickly, and ice exploded around the redheaded Shinigami, freezing him in place. Growling in frustration, Renji tried to break free of the ice cemented around his body.

Shit. 'That was a bit much, Hitsugaya.'

It was. _Too much_. Tōshirō swallowed and soon had the ice melt from Renji's form. The room had grown drastically cold, and Renji found himself shivering. Although Hitsugaya's abilities were admirable, they were–– _different_. Dangerous, even. The man had trained very hard since he was young and, now, he was almost invincible. Of course it was pointless of Renji to even _bother_ fighting against him, but Tōshirō was ridiculously eager: he wanted to have someone to train with.

'Sorry, Abarai,' Hitsugaya said, sheathing his zanpakutō. 'I went a little ahead of myself there.'

Renji watched the Captain walk to the other end of the room to fetch his _haori_, and cocked a brow. 'Want to tell me why?'

'No,' Tōshirō said. _Because even I don't know what's wrong_.

Then he sat down on the floor and lay down, resting his hands behind his head. Ever since he left the office, leaving Matsumoto alone with her godforsaken precious _windows_, he hadn't felt as stable as usual. Maybe it was the frustration of knowing something wasn't right, or maybe it was the fact he didn't trust her to finish her paperwork without him watching. Or, maybe, it was because he simply _didn't know_. One would only go through such measures to distract themselves if–– if they––

–– _If they weren't happy_.

Closing his eyes, Tōshirō wished he could stop thinking.

'You look tired, Captain.'

'I'm not tired,' Tōshirō said. 'I sleep plenty.'

'Uhh...' Renji sat down beside the resting Shinigami. 'Fine, not tired due to lack of _sleep_, then. I mean, tired in general.'

Tōshirō opened his eyes. 'I'm tired of secrets, Abarai.'

Renji looked at him. 'That's funny, seeing as your the King of secre––'

'Very funny.' Sighing, the Captain sat upright. Then he started chuckling. This was so bizarre. 'I think I know what's wrong with me.'

'You mean there's only _one_ thing wrong?'

Tōshirō could feel his heart: pounding heavily against his ribcage. It was comforting, to know he was alive. His mind raced, so quick and filled with ideas, words and confusion. He was clammy, felt a little sick. Despite the emotions crashing through him, he felt all right. The anger had gone, and in replacement was this sort of odd numbness.

It was funny that, sitting there, all he could think about was one individual. He wondered if she was still in the office, working, wiping the windows, drinking alcohol with fellow colleagues, doing something stupid like she would. Yet, he doubted that. After observing her earlier today, she had shown a shadow hovering over her, constant and grinning. It was killing her slowly.

And, like an idiot, he just watched from afar. Let the demons take their toll.

'I'm in love.'


	2. Happiness

Flowers For A Ghost  
**Chapter 2.**

* * *

Happiness was never ensured, not even for the good soul. One had to work hard to attain it, yet even that still didn't promise the result of happiness. Tōshirō was a very hard worker, and happiness was an emotion he hadn't felt properly in a long time. Arguably, he never had. What _was_ happiness? Having the ability to smile, being able to laugh? What was happiness, and why was it so important? Why did everybody _want_ happiness?

Although she would not appreciate him pointing this out, Tōshirō knew Rangiku's happiness was a mask. The smiles she wore weren't honest, the alcohol she drank –– while it wasn't frequent –– was in her possession for a reason. Only a fool would not acknowledge that. Since he became Captain, something had been wrong with her. Happiness, in the longest sense, hadn't been granted to her. The woman suffered a childhood of abandonment, so it was perfectly reasonable for her to _fear_ abandonment.

Maybe, because of this, she wasn't happy. As each day passed, as they headed back home, Hitsugaya wondered where she would go. Whether she would head back to her apartment, or visit a friend's, or go to a bar, or–– No, he didn't want to think about it. Tōshirō told himself he was only behaving this way because her life was none of his business, but that was not true. Her life _was_ his business. The man cared deeply for her, more than anyone had before, and so it was his business to know–– to _know_ if she was happy.

Tōshirō didn't know when he fell in love with her. It might have been when Ichigo's Father was his commanding officer, or maybe a little afterwards. Rangiku was a constant, there from the beginning and, hopefully, right to the end. Sometimes, he would sit and think in horror that was once a time in his life when she didn't _exist_, that, once, he never knew her. To have someone who had such an impact on him, surely it was... _natural_ to love her. Most ardently.

Yet, it was bizarre. This man –– who felt _nothing_ towards his enemies and even to his allies –– had fallen in _love_. Love was a powerful emotion, the most controlling of them all. The ruler. It had taken him a long time to acknowledge this feeling, but, now he had, there was no way out. After his confession to Renji, Tōshirō knew that was final. That he could not see her again without knowing he loved her, and she had no idea.

Maybe, _maybe_, it was about time.

'Captain!'

Tōshirō was on his way to the hall to collect some food, when he was disturbed by the Lieutenant herself. Swivelling around, he watched her zip towards him, beaming. There was a folder in her hand, with a neat bow strapped around. Hitsugaya groaned.

'I did all the paperwork you said I owed. Am I free to go?'

'No,' he said, taking the folder from her. 'And the bow? What's that about? You're going to have to try harder if you want me to start swooning,' placing the folder under his arm, he continued his way. 'Come have lunch with me.'

The invitation startled her. Usually –– _always_ –– Rangiku was the one asking Tōshirō if he'd like to eat with _her_. 'Thank you,' she said, walking beside him. Then a smile reached her lips again and she nudged him playfully. 'You _swoon_? I'd love to see that. Which women around here have made you faint?'

'None.'

'Tsk, I call bullshit. You know, a new Lieutenant has been appointed into one of the Divisions. She's pretty hot, Captain, maybe you might want to––'

'Matsumoto, I'm not interested.'

'You're never interested!' Rangiku complained, linking her arm with his, much to his disgruntlement. 'Here I am, playing matchmaker, and you turn away every lady I introduce you to. You don't think there's competition with the other male Shinigami here, do you? I know _plenty_ of ladies are crushing on you.'

That was something he didn't want to hear. 'I'd only want a relationship with someone I know very well,' he said, then almost slapped himself. Tōshirō hated being personal with anyone, let alone Rangiku. 'Those women are free to fancy me, but I really couldn't care less about it.'

'You're ridiculous, Captain. You can only get to know someone if you don't turn them away at first sight.'

'I can judge someone's character on their appearance.'

'That's awful! So you're a shallow man, are you?'

'No, that's not right at all!' Tōshirō was beginning to grow impatient. Wait, was he _really_ in love with this idiot? 'Matsumoto,' he said. The Captain had stopped walking and was now facing her, so she would listen to his words _properly_. 'If I was interested, I would have gone out and found a lady myself, but I'm not. You don't have to do all of these favours for me. I'm fine.'

With some reluctance, she decided to accept that. Still, his behaviour was new to her. Mind, his behaviour _in general_ was new to her. Rumour had spread that Captain Hitsugaya might be homosexual due to his lack of interest, or that he was asexual. This had irritated her, but mostly because she felt protective over him. Rumour around the Gotei could get aggressive, and the last thing she wanted was for Tōshirō to feel antagonised. He was going through a fragile stage in his Shinigami career. The slightest trigger could––

No, she was over thinking this. Tōshirō didn't care for rumour, did he? Rangiku was used to rumour, herself. People still gossiped about her, and even had the audacity to assume she was sleeping with her Captain, and that was only reason she was still his Vice-Captain. That was insulting. To place Tōshirō at such a level insulted her. It wasn't her own status she cared about, it was his. That was why she was introducing him to delectable women, encouraging him to date, just so the rumours would cease.

The hall was fairly crowded, but there were plenty of tables for them to choose from. Grabbing a plate, Tōshirō helped himself to some salad and fruit, 'I trust my windows are shining, at least.'

'Yes, Sir. I was very thorough. You know, you can always pay me for doing that as well.'

Tōshirō pulled a crooked smile. 'One can dream.'

'Aw, you're so cruel. If it weren't for me, that office of yours would be a tip.'

'You _make it_ a tip,' Hitsugaya scolded, throwing a glare at her while she chose some food. 'Honestly, Matsumoto, I spend more time cleaning after your mess than doing my actual job.'

Rangiku pouted and didn't respond. When her Captain went to fetch a drink, she overheard someone talking nearby. '––and I bet he's only keeping her there because he feels sorry for her.' For some reason, that comment made her feel a little on edge, then she realised she was only being paranoid.

Paranoid? _Paranoid_? Rangiku was _paranoid_?

'Over here,' Tōshirō said, gesturing to a table. A little tense and lost in thought, Rangiku went over to sit opposite him. Yet, from where they sat, she could still hear the group a few metres away talking to one another. She needed to block out their noise, distract herself and, more importantly, Tōshirō.

'Have you spoken to Hinamori lately? I met her not long ago. She really misses you.'

'I know,' Tōshirō said, playing with his food. 'I would talk to her, but it's become impossible to lately.' He stopped short, glancing to the table beside him, then back at his food.

Rangiku's attention swerved to the conversation behind her. '––such a lazy bitch. I could work twice as hard as her and I still would be nowhere near the position of Vice-Captain––' her heart skipped a beat, '––Plus she's gone into this crazy state of depression. You noticed how sad she looks now? I'm amazed she doesn't carry that booze with her everywhere,' then there were laughs.

'Matsumoto?'

At once she looked at Tōshirō. 'Yes, Captain?'

'What's wrong?'

'––bet she slept her way to the top, though.'

Hitsugaya's eyes slowly turned to the group gossiping nearby. Rangiku swallowed, suddenly very afraid.

'––haha, but it's nuts that he keeps her around. Obviously only because he likes to look at her, but who can blame him? I'd appoint her just to be a nice decoration at the back of my office.' Chortles, then whispers.

'Ignore them, Sir,' Rangiku said, mind spinning when Tōshirō was about to stand to his feet. She quickly claimed his hand, 'There's no point.' Personally, she would have liked to give them a good kicking, but it was Tōshirō she was concerned about the most. That was why she hated it when she heard they were possibly talking about her. Hitsugaya would be angry, and she _loathed_ his anger.

At first, he was going to obey her. With reluctance, he slowly sat back down again, eyes on her. Currently, a fire was roaring in his belly, and he wanted more than anything to approach that group of young Shinigami and batter them. Not only was it out of order for them to talk about their superiors in this manner, but what they were saying–– about Rangiku. It... it _angered him so much_.

Rangiku's heart squeezed when she heard them again.

'––anyway, what use is someone who is sad all the time? I would have got rid of her on a whim.'

'_Don't_, Captain. We'll get them later.' _**I**__ will get them later._ 'We can sit somewhere else.'

'––given her a bottle of alcohol as a good bye gift. She'd be all over me then.'

That was it. Fury burst, and he was over there in a flash, grabbing the collar of the main gossiper and thrusting him against the wall. The entire hall fell into silence, but Hitsugaya didn't care. He couldn't focus. The anger he endured was unbearable, ripping his body into shreds, and he was holding onto the man so tightly his knuckles grew white.

'Shut your mouth, you son-of-a-bitch. Shut your mouth.'

'Captain, I was––'

'_Shut up_!' It was a scream, a terrifying one. The room was growing colder and colder, and soon the man in his grip was starting to shiver, white puffs escaping his mouth when he exhaled. It got colder and colder, until his lips started to turn blue. 'I will kill you if you dare speak like that again about my Lieutenant. I will kill you.' It took everything in him to not freeze this bastard to death then and there.

The man couldn't respond. He was shivering violently, teeth chattering, ice forming in his hair. The rest in the room had either left out of wisdom or were, also, shivering by the cold. Tōshirō still hadn't let him go, and his eyes swerved to the other four Shinigami there. At once they backed away, fear evident in their faces. How pathetic.

'Do any of you have anything left to say?' Tōshirō said, his words calm, but his eyes revealed the anger, revealed the fury within him. Only a fool would dare respond. 'If so, I want to hear it, and make sure it be the last thing you ever stutter––'

'Captain!'

Tōshirō turned. Rangiku was inches away. Unlike the others, she wasn't scared. She had no reason to be; he wouldn't hurt her. However, she did look disappointed, and that crushed him completely. Disappointed, but also–– upset? Rangiku came over and took hold of his free hand, her warmth travelling from his wrist to the rest of his body.

A slow exhale escaped his lips.

'Stop this. Just stop it.' _This isn't you_.

Then, he let the man go. A gasp of relief escaped his lips and he instantly dashed out of the hall, his body nearly frozen, fingers numb and cheeks aching. Tōshirō wanted to apologise to Rangiku, but he couldn't. He wanted that man to receive a just punishment. Yet, maybe he had acted out of line. He had let his personal feelings get the better of him.

Soon he realised how cold the room was. The windows had fogged up, and those who remained to witness the scene were trembling from the cold. Hitsugaya opened his mouth to speak, averted his gaze, then shook his head. 'I'll be in the office.' With that, he left the hall, leaving Rangiku alone.

* * *

When she returned to the office twenty minutes later, Tōshirō wasn't there. So, believing he had only nipped out for a bit, she returned to her desk. However, when another thirty minutes passed, to over an hour, she began to grow concerned. If Tōshirō was attending a meeting, he would usually leave her a note. After what had occurred in the hall, though, she knew he wouldn't be attending meetings or doing whatever business-related work he could find. He was doing something else.

Really, she should trust her Captain to know what he needed, but she naturally felt concerned. They needed to discuss what happened, come to an understanding. It wasn't known whether Tōshirō felt upset about the way he approached her, but she had no choice. The Captain meant well, but he had acted out of order. His temper –– his one weakness –– had got the better of him, and his fierce abilities began to take over completely. It was amazing how the hall dropped so many degrees in such few seconds. Remarkable, even, but Rangiku wasn't in a praising mood. There was nothing _remarkable_ about a tyrant, and she was desperate for her Captain to not follow the path of destruction.

_I care too much_.

Maybe Tōshirō would be annoyed if Rangiku started searching for him, but she couldn't _lose_ him. It was a secret of hers that she was terrified of being alone, of being abandoned by those close to her. That had happened many times before, once by a man she loved dearly. Trust was tricky for her, and when she gave it to someone, that was final and absolute. If they abused that trust, it broke her in many ways, tore her apart.

_She doesn't want T__ō__shir__ō__ to leave her, too_.

The Captain's spiritual pressure was powerful against her. She could sense it from miles away, countries away, even if he were in The World of the Living and she in Soul Society, Rangiku could still sense him. So it wasn't hard to discover him in the same building. The closer she got, the more cold she became, and she was soon shivering, nearing the room he resided. The door appeared to be melting, but she realised there was ice covering the top, melting from the heat outside. He was training.

Or, more accurately, dealing with his anger.

When she opened the door, the impact was huge. Rangiku almost toppled backwards by the sheer freeze, and she instantly gasped, which disturbed Tōshirō from what he was doing. He was shirtless, untouched by the ice painting the walls. The entire room was _covered_, glistening with ice, and if she dared stay inside for much longer, she would freeze to death. However, her own health was barely noticed. Tōshirō stared at her, his zanpakutō clenched tightly in hand. His eyes were like a light, illuminated against the cool air.

The zanpakutō clattered to the icy ground. 'What are you doing here?' His voice was gentle, a surprising contrast to the anger which flourished out of him seconds ago.

It wasn't just the horror of witnessing what he was doing to the room, but to _himself_. Rangiku swallowed, 'I was looking for you, Captain.'

'I––' Tōshirō's gaze had softened, but only because he was afraid. What had she seen? What did she think? 'I needed to be alone for a while, let off some steam. Go back to the office, I'll be there shortly.'

'And let you freeze yourself to death?'

'I can't freeze.'

'_I'm_ freezing!'

'Then go.'

'No. Don't _tell me_ to leave you like this! I'm sick of it. What are you doing, Captain?' She had stepped over, and he wasn't sure if she was angry, frustrated or upset with him. The way she looked at him, as if he were a _monster_. 'Why are you so angry? What happened was a silly mistake, and it doesn't matter now.'

'It does matter. I lost control.'

'I don't care. I just want you to come back.'

'If I lose control, Matsumoto, then I don't know what that might mean for me in the future. I would have killed that man if you didn't stop me.'

'I don't care––'

'You really should.' Then he widened his eyes, finally expressing some sort of emotion. 'You're cold,' he said, brushing a freezing hand across her cheek. Rangiku trembled at his touch, and she knew her body wouldn't be able to tolerate such a chill for long, but she didn't want to leave. Not without him. 'Please go, I don't want you falling ill.'

'I'll go, I promise,' she said, claiming his hand in hers. 'But you must come with me. Snap out of this, Captain. This isn't you, and I don't like it.'

Then he saw it: the pain in her soft eyes. Tōshirō narrowed his brows, hating to see her this way. How could he be so selfish? Be so _cruel_? 'I don't know what's wrong with me.'

'Nothing. Nothing's wrong with you. You're perfect, Captain, _stop it_.' Her hands fell to either side of his face, and he closed his eyes, embracing the heat from her palms. Somehow, she managed to ease his mind, allow him to come back to his senses. The freeze began to melt, and he sighed, as if in relief. 'Please stop.'

Opening his eyes, he let a hand brush across her cheek again. 'I'm sorry. I didn't want to scare you. I wanted to fix things.'

'It doesn't matter anymore,' she said, heart pounding. _Come back, stop talking, just come back_.

'You're making yourself cold,' Tōshirō said, taking her hands and letting them fall to her sides. 'I'll be out shortly.'

'No, I'm not leaving until you do.'

Rangiku's stubbornness had its highs and lows. Tōshirō wanted to scold her, but he knew that whatever he said, she was going to stay. And the longer she stayed, the more she would harm herself. Grabbing his top and zampakutō on the floor, he nodded once, and they left the room together.

'It might be wise of me to report what I've done,' Tōshirō said. By now, though, it was pretty common of him to leave a training room covered in ice. He swerved his eyes to a shivering Rangiku and sighed. 'You can be an absolute idiot sometimes, Matsumoto,' he said, stepping forwards. He knew his presence wasn't helping matters, he would only make her colder. 'You're dismissed. Go home and make yourself warm.'

Even though her mind screamed at her to leave, she couldn't. It shocked them both when she flung her arms around the back of his neck and embraced him tightly. Holding him like this was like diving into a sea of cold water. Soon, her head started to hurt by the freeze, but she refused to let him go. Tōshirō was stunned, and it took him a moment to finally place an arm around her waist.

'I'm sorry,' he said again, eyes shutting half way. It would amaze her how her touch made him feel. Now he remembered why he loved her, why she was so dear to him. If he could spend every day with her, just with her, then he would be happy. That was happiness to him. Her. She. _She_ was his happiness.

And yet, she froze around him.

'I forgive you,' Rangiku said quietly, tightening their embrace.

Tōshirō's other arm found its way around her back, and he squeezed affectionately. Never had he shared a hug like this before, and he knew the only reason he was holding her was so she could stay. _Just stay a little longer with me_.

* * *

**author's note**: A lot of headcanons thrown around in this chapter about Hitsugaya and Matsumoto. I was discussing Rangiku and her issues with abandonment to my best friend, and it's pretty clear her past has really screwed up her perception on trust. I also think her drinking habits should be acknowledged, and I'm certainly going to be touching on that in future chapters. Thank you for reading, and please leave a review! I'd love to know your thoughts, of course. Seriously, your feedback is the best thing I could be given. I love reading about what you think.

A quick shout out to **[ Guest ]** and **sagitgirlth** for your feedback on chapter one. I really appreciate your support.


	3. Rain

Flowers For A Ghost  
**Chapter 3.**

* * *

It was all so quick; violent. As soon as she arrived home, Rangiku struggled to focus. The sensations which swirled in her body almost made her topple to the side. She had to lean against the wall for support. What she had witnessed–– it couldn't escape her mind. Although she forgave him –– how could she not? –– she still remembered. How frightening he appeared, how out-of-control he was becoming.

Trembling, she tried to distract herself. The night had arrived, and she should probably sleep, but that was foolish. After what happened, she couldn't rest, she couldn't stay in one place. So she attempted to do something else, think of something else, anything _but him_. The washing needed to be done, yes. She hadn't sorted out her dirty dishes; they were piling up by her sink. She needed to do those.

Yet when she started to pour hot water, Rangiku still couldn't stop thinking. Her thoughts were like sharp daggers, constantly stabbing her mind. It hurt. Just thinking about him, and what he had done, hurt her. How _angry_ he became just because some lunatic started mocking her. Rangiku wasn't touched. She understood why he would feel irritated. They were very close. She, herself, would feel much compelled to say a few words if someone started mocking Tōshirō. But almost kill them?

Many times, she had read novels where the good man turned corrupt because his powers were too much for him to handle. Soon, the zanpakutō no longer became the slave, but the master itself. It was only a matter of time before Hitsugaya was hit, until his own zanpakutō had complete control over his body and soul. Tōshirō was powerful, but terribly so. She wished he was still learning, still training when he was younger. Then, she realised, she missed that Hitsugaya. Missed that small boy she loved to tease.

Now, he was older. Teasing didn't seem appropriate anymore. Banter was impossible. Sometimes, he was like ice. He _was _ice. For decades, he had carved himself to become this weapon, untouchable and unbreakable. She could speak to him, scold him, mock him, play with him, and he wouldn't respond. It almost hurt her feelings the way he never seemed to acknowledge her silly side anymore. If anything, he merely took it as an annoyance. At least, in her eyes he did.

However her feelings for him were so strong. When she witnessed him, covering the room with ice, she was scared. Frightened. Rangiku would not have felt so afraid if she didn't _care_. She was frightened not because he might hurt her, but because he might hurt himself. The very idea of Hitsugaya causing himself injury was too much to bear. She had taken care of him for years. To have him turn around and slaughter himself–– she didn't want to think about it. She didn't want _that_ to ever be possible.

When she held him, pressed him to her, protectively, comfortingly, _wanting_, he was snow. Gentle, hesitant, melting at her touch. She couldn't let go. As soon as he began to pry his limbs away from her, Rangiku felt empty and _lost_. Sometimes, she believed he was the only individual in her life who _truly_ mattered. Of course, this was unfair to her friends at the Gotei and external to it. But he was _different_. Special. She would go anywhere for him, follow him wherever, even into the depths of Hell if he asked.

Did he know? Did he have any idea how much he _meant_ to her? There was a reason why she rushed into that freezing room. She wanted him to remain sane. She didn't want this man to turn corrupt and let insanity take over. As his Vice-Captain, that was her duty. As his friend, that was her responsibility. As someone who loved him dearly, that was a _must_, and there was no other option. That little boy she knew had grown up so fast. She didn't feel like the irritating subordinate anymore, she didn't feel like his comrade, she didn't feel like a friend. Whatever she felt, she didn't like it. Whatever she felt, it didn't feel right.

So lost in her thoughts, she didn't realise only the hot tap had been running. When her hands dived into the scolding water, she hissed in pain and freed her hands from the heat. Yet that was the trigger. Everything she had locked away unfolded, and she broke. Tears poured from her eyes, and she dropped to the floor, hugging her knees and _wishing_ everything would go back to how things were. Even if that meant Gin were alive, at least her Captain would be stable, at least he wouldn't be troubled and suffering so much agony.

_I don't want to be alone._

Everything, everything usually came back to Rangiku's selfishness. She never wanted to be selfish, but her actions always implied such. Although she was desperate for Tōshirō to not fall insane, she also didn't want him to abandon her. How many times she had to go through the memory of Ichimaru _leaving_ her. She loved him, trusted him, and he pushed her aside as if she was _nothing_. Was she nothing to Hitsugaya?

"_Captain Hitsugaya is not Ichimaru."_ Renji's words, from all those years ago, came to mind and she wiped away her tears. No, he wasn't. Hitsugaya was loyal to his duty. Never would he just _leave_. She knew he valued her company, of course he did. She also knew he valued his role as Captain. He _loved_ his job, and treasured it so much. The idea that he would leave her seemed ridiculous and very out of character. Yet the pain in her heart still lingered, still tore at her, and she tried her best to stop crying.

If only she could place directly what was wrong. That was what frustrated her the most. This insecurity of knowing why she was so upset. Yes, it would always scar her to witness him training so hard, filling the room with ice so cold it burned. But there was also something else, something else which made everything around her turn dark and distant. She was very alone, and had been for a long time.

At the back of her mind, she wondered, too, if Hitsugaya was lonely.

* * *

The following morning, Tōshirō Hitsugaya arrived at work early. One would recommend he apologise to the Shinigami he attacked yesterday, but he disagreed. Mocking a superior like that was disgusting, and he was going to make sure the Shinigami would earn his just punishment. Glancing over at the windows, he inspected how polished they were for a moment, before allowing a small smile, swerving his attention back to his files of paperwork.

If Rangiku was good at anything, she was certainly skilled at wiping windows.

'Maybe you should make a business out of it,' he suggested later that day.

There was something very bizarre about her Captain teasing her. Rangiku raised her head from her work, unsure if _he_ had actually spoken. 'Then I wouldn't work here, and you'd miss me.'

Rubbing his eye, he had to give her that. Rangiku looked over his way and spotted a smile stretched across his lips. Deciding to ignore his expression, she returned back to work, mind spinning. There was something infuriating about her superior officer not acknowledging what happened between them yesterday. It was as if he didn't care, or had forgotten. Either of the two were pretty insulting.

Or, maybe, he was just wise enough to not delve into the subject. What happened, happened. That was all.

Tōshirō allowed a quick glance at her, and noticed she was a little more fidgety than usual. Naturally Matsumoto hated sitting around behind a desk, but that usually resulted in her falling asleep or nipping outside. Today, she was restless, but not necessarily leaving her seat. 'Are you all right?'

'Yes, Captain,' she said. Though, if she was going to be honest, she didn't feel so good. This morning she woke up with a horrible headache, and now it seemed to have transformed into some sort of mild cold. Of course she would have happily rang her Captain up to say she wasn't going in, but she thought he might find her absence suspicious after their intimate moment together yesterday.

How stupid. Hitsugaya probably wouldn't appreciate her dripping snot all over the desk. Wiping her nose, she groaned.

'Actually, I feel like shit.'

Tōshirō's attention was on her immediately. He was right. Retreating from the desk, he approached her. Rangiku wasn't sure what he was trying to do until he placed a hand at her forehead. 'You've got a temperature, I think.' A sigh. An irritated one. 'Go home. If you hang around here, I'm going to catch it, and I won't appreciate that.'

'Thank you for your concern, I guess,' Rangiku muttered.

Her Captain's reasons for acting so irritated weren't clear to her. Was he honestly angry that she had fallen ill?

'Hey, at least I came in today!'

'It's not that,' Hitsugaya said. He was about to speak, then stopped. Hesitance. 'Just, please, go home and make yourself warm. Try and get better.' The man turned around, then faced her again. 'And yeah, I'm pretty impressed you arrived. Usually you'd call in sick with worse excuses than this.'

Rangiku had risen from her chair and, ignoring her dizziness, playfully nudged him in the side. 'You're the one sending me home.'

It was the illness certainly which had made Rangiku less enthusiastic. As soon as her Captain informed her she was heading home, the woman literally jumped with joy. Now, he noticed how she could barely balance herself. His heart dropped. Of course he knew why this was. If she didn't spend so much time with him in that freezing room, she would have been okay. Now she had caught a cold, and hopefully it was _just_ a cold.

Even if this were so, Rangiku didn't regret what she did. _Someone_ had to go in there and calm him down. If that had to be her, so be it, because she doubted anyone else would bother. Plus, she had a feeling her mood last night didn't help matters. Glancing at her superior officer, Rangiku decided it would be best she left the events of last night a secret. He didn't need to know.

'Would you like me to call a doctor?'

_That_ was a bit extreme. 'I'm _okay_, Captain,' she said, highly amused. 'I'm a big girl now. I don't need to be looked after. Unlike some.'

'It's impressive you can joke even when your health is so bad. Okay, fine. Just come back in tomorrow.'

'Yeah, yeah.' _As if_. It had been a mistake to come in today. Returning tomorrow would be stupid. Matsumoto doubted her illness would recover overnight, and, admittedly, Tōshirō felt the same. He watched his Lieutenant leave the room, until he was left by himself. It was almost frightening how the mood dropped as soon as she departed.

Of course, now that she _was_ gone, Tōshirō was left with his thoughts. A very bad idea. Throughout the day, he tried to focus on work, but accidentally caught himself checking his denreishiki to make sure she hadn't sent him a text on how she was doing. Rangiku tended to have the view that Tōshirō liked to be updated on everything she was up to. Today, though, there was no form of communication. Was she feeling that bad?

No, he was thinking too much into it. He shouldn't expect Rangiku to contact him all the time. Near the end of his shift, he left his office to go out and collect something when he almost bumped into someone. This man he hadn't met for a long time, and so it was very odd to see him here, of all places. 'Kurosaki?'

The substitute Shinigami raised his brows once realising it was Hitsugaya. 'Whoa... You've _grown_.'

Tōshirō rolled his eyes. 'What did you expect? Anyway, why are you here?'

'I came to visit Rukia, but fancy bumping into you!' Ichigo grinned, 'How've you been?'

Being asked this was difficult. Tōshirō didn't enjoy lying, but he didn't want Ichigo to know what occurred yesterday. After upsetting Rangiku like that, and then having her leave work ill, he wasn't sure how he felt. 'I've been busy, Kurosaki. That might be hard for you to understand.'

'Hey, no need to get so aggressive with me, I was only asking.' Then, an idea came to mind. Patting Histugaya's shoulder, he enthusiastically said, 'We should talk. When does your shift end?'

'In ten minutes.'

'Meet me in the hall just down this corridor when you're done. Rukia told me she would be available in about half an hour.'

Tōshirō frowned. 'Why'd you come early?' Then he shook his head, 'Never mind. All right, I'll speak with you for a couple of minutes. This better be worth it, Kurosaki.'

Returning to his office, Histuagaya decided there wouldn't be any harm in conversing with Ichigo. He needed to distract his mind from Rangiku, and what had happened. Hopefully Kurosaki's fancy free manner might help. When his work was filed and completed, Tōshirō left the office in order to meet Ichigo in the hall. It was funny that in that same place he had lost his temper, almost made everyone in the room freeze to death. Clenching a fist, he mentally told himself to forget it. There wasn't any point in thinking about the past. A soldier must think for the future.

The redhead was waiting for him, a cup of coffee in hand. Tōshirō sat opposite him, 'Right, what's the matter?'

'Nothing's the matter with _me_, Hitsugaya––'

'_Captain_.'

Ichigo ignored him. '_You_ look like shit.'

Narrowing his brows, Tōshirō almost scolded him for such crude language. 'Your point?'

'When was the last time you got some sleep? Seriously, the last time I saw you like this was when your zanpakutō was stolen. You trained like crazy then, but that did no help for your health. And I bet I wasn't the only one who thought that.'

Tōshirō glared at him. 'I didn't come here to be criticised.'

'I'm _not_ criticising you. More, _advising_ you if you like.'

'Whatever,' he scowled. 'No, I haven't been my best, but that's irrelevant and should not matter to you.'

Ichigo cocked a brow. 'Really? Why's that? You're doing that thing again where you keep everything to yourself. Didn't I tell you what effect that had on those around you?'

When he thought back to Rangiku, her face when she witnessed him in the ice cold room, how shocked and frightened and angry she appeared. The way she looked when she told him to let that Shinigami go who had been mocking her. Without meaning to, he had been hurting her feelings. On so many occasions, he had hurt her, just because he wanted to do good. How was that so?

Ichigo was right. Rangiku wasn't happy. She wasn't happy because Tōshirō wasn't happy.

_Selfish fool_.

There was a long pause shared between the two. Tōshirō clenched a fist under the table, _wishing_ he could find Rangiku now and just apologise. But even if he left and found her, he still wouldn't be able to do it. An apology, to say "sorry"–– why? He couldn't do it. The reason he was doing this was for _her_ sake too. _I just don't want to fall apart_. Despite his thoughts, though, whenever he wasn't around her, he was falling apart anyway.

'She'll hate to see you like this.'

Ichigo's words cut through him like a knife. Tōshirō glared at him. 'Don't you dare.'

'I know she's on your mind. How do you expect her to be happy if you're like this?'

'_Don't_.'

'You've become miserable, Hitsugaya.'

'Cap–– Stop it.'

'If you care so much for her, then at least––'

'_Kurosaki_!' The chair tipped over and Tōshirō was on his feet, looking down on Ichigo, lethal, petrifying, _upset_. Ichigo stared back, challenging him, but, inside, he was horrified. Standing before him was someone who appeared so young, but so tired and exhausted. Completely destroyed from the very beginning. Tōshirō's body trembled, and he was fuming, terrified. '_Don't_. _Don't_ advise me on how much I _care_ for her. _Don't_.' _You can't possibly understand_.

Carefully, Ichigo straightened. The last thing he wanted was to antagonise Tōshirō, but the Captain could be infuriatingly sensitive when he wanted. A nod. 'I'm sorry. I just needed to know for sure. Hitsugaya, you're miserable because she is.'

Tōshirō looked away.

'Because of Ichimar––'

'Speak his name and I'll rip out your tongue.'

Kurosaki wasn't frightened. The man had faced monsters, faced death countless times, and he knew that Hitsugaya had no intention to attack him. Standing to his feet also, he tried to think of something comforting to say, but it was very clear how down Tōshirō felt because of Rangiku. It was amazing, really. She had that much power over him, and she was utterly clueless. In many regards, Ichigo couldn't blame Tōshirō for being so tense when they spoke about her. Without a doubt, he would feel the same way.

'I know you're not well––'

'Kurosaki, please.'

'––but know this: if you started smiling for her, she'll probably smile as well.' Ichigo shrugged. 'She can be very cheerful if you let her.' He smirked at Tōshirō's look. 'No, don't worry. I'm not interested. Obviously. I'd better be going to meet Rukia. Try and keep your chin up, all right?' He teased, poking Tōshirō's cheek.

Growling, the Captain whacked his hand away, earning a laugh.

'You might look older, but you're still a kid.'

Deciding it would be best to ignore that comment, Tōshirō left the Gotei when Kurosaki had gone in search of Rukia. Damn him. Hitsugaya hated Ichigo's wisdom sometimes. However, maybe he had slapped some sense into him. There was no point hiding away from his feelings forever, and if he did want Rangiku to be happy, the least he could do was try and put some effort into his actions for her.

When he arrived at her apartment, he wasn't entirely sure what he was doing. Checking to make sure she was okay? Knocking at her door, he waited patiently for an answer, but didn't receive one. At first, he was about to walk away, but tried the door just in case. Should he honestly be surprised that she forgot to lock it? Rolling his eyes, he stepped inside her apartment.

'Matsumoto?' He called.

Just by sensing her spiritual pressure he knew where she was. Rangiku's bedroom just about reflected her work-ethic to be honest: a mess. However, that didn't concern Tōshirō. He was more bothered about the collapsed lady on the bed. It looked as if she had gone to sleep the moment she returned home. Softening his expression, he silently walked over, placed a hand at her forehead. Her temperature had spiked some more.

For crying out loud! Couldn't she take care of herself? Rangiku murmured something when she realised someone had come to visit, but Hitsugaya didn't offer a reply. Instead, he made his way into the kitchen and started to search for a flannel. After twenty minutes of looking in all the cupboards, he finally found one just dumped in the corner. Checking it was clean (which it was, thank God), he rinsed it with cool water before returning to her.

Placing it over her forehead, he thought it would be wise she had a drink of water too, but Rangiku was unresponsive. Tōshirō sat at the edge of the bed, wondering what to do. He had some medicine back at his place, so it would be wise of him to go and collect some. 'I'll be back soon,' he said, although he doubted Matsumoto heard him.

When he left her apartment (taking her key and locking the door behind him), he rushed back to his place, collected the appropriate medicine and, on his way out, grabbed his violin case. Without a doubt, he would be staying over there for some time, until Matsumoto was able to take care of herself. Silly woman for not calling a doctor. This wasn't a cold, and he feared she had a fever.

However, he was going to make sure she was well. Tōshirō didn't want her to slip between his fingers because of an illness.

* * *

Rangiku awoke gradually. In her dreams, she started hearing music. It was beautiful, but powerful as well, _moving_. The notes flowed, the sound was like a river, gentle, but forceful, gorgeous. Words couldn't describe the music she was hearing, and only when she woke up properly did she realise the music was being played in her apartment. The energy to find out who it was wasn't available. Rangiku shut her eyes again, listening to the sweet tunes of–– was that a violin?

Never had she heard someone play a violin so well. For a moment, the violin distracted her from her illness, until suddenly her headache returned like a hammer crushing her skull. Rangiku opened her aching eyes again, glancing over at some medicine on her bedside table, a glass of water and moist flannel. Frowning, she struggled to sit upright, feeling dizzy immediately. Whoever had treated her was the one performing the violin.

Her apartment was quite dark as it was night, save for a couple of lamps being switched on. Rangiku swallowed, her throat sore and dry, and carefully found her balance when standing up. She was sensitive when she touched her arm, her flesh aching just by her fingers brushing over. Her nose was blocked too, and she really would do for a tissue. Slowly, she left her room and followed the tune, followed the music, her heart squeezing slightly when the violin played a sweet, high note. The song being played wasn't a happy one, but it wasn't sad either. Just powerful, and full of colourful rhythm. It soon occurred to her who was playing the violin. She could _feel_ him: his cold, freezing, _wonderful_ presence.

From the doorway to her small living area, she watched Tōshirō stand, gazing out of the window, the violin clutched in one hand, leaning against his shoulder. His uniform was removed, and he was now wearing gigai clothing: trousers and a shirt. Facing away from her, she realised how much older he was. His shoulders were much broader, legs longer and thicker, whereas his arms had also grown, muscle tensing beneath his skin whenever he moved. The man was handsome, tall, firm and beautiful. He was so beautiful. His hair, white, spiky, but tied up at the back. Tōshirō looked like a Shinigami Captain, a Leader, a power one, the very rare, able to control ice and snow.

He wasn't a little boy anymore.

It seemed for the next few minutes, Hitsugaya wasn't aware that Rangiku had woken up. She didn't mind, though. In fact, just watching him play the violin seemed to soothe her. Now, he wasn't thinking. All that mattered was him and the violin. The violin was his distraction from everything, and she wanted him to play for as long as he liked. It was good for him; it was good for both of them.

But damn it, she had to go ahead and _sneeze_!

At once Tōshirō wheeled around, letting the violin fall to his side. When he realised Rangiku was up, he instantly placed the instrument aside and came over. 'Matsumoto, are you all right?' He placed a hand at her forehead. 'I need to take your temperature again.'

'Wh–– When did you learn to play, mm?' She asked, quite dreamily. This flu wasn't making her function right. Oops.

'How are you feeling?' He asked, guiding her towards a seat, and grabbing the thermometer.

'Didn't know you could play, who taught you how to––' Tōshirō shut her up by placing the thermometer into her mouth. He waited a second or two, before retrieving it. She still had a temperature, but, thankfully, it had decreased. He knew that she being around him wouldn't help, though. 'Captain...?'

'You need to go back to bed. I'll still be here, just not in the same room.'

'Mm, noo,' she moaned, grabbing his shirt and pulling herself towards him.

Tōshirō groaned when she rested her head against his chest. 'You're ill because you've been around me when I've been in a particular state. Just try and avoid me for as much as possible.' No response. He was worried for a second she had fallen asleep on him. 'Matsumoto, come on. I'm doing this for your sake.'

'I dun wanna go.'

'You're acting ridiculous. You'll be in the next _room_.'

'Captain,' she mumbled.

'Matsumoto, no.' Obviously she wasn't going to move by herself. 'You brought this on yourself, you idiot.' The last thing she expected was for her superior officer to pick her. Rangiku yelped in surprise when he carried her bridal style back to the bedroom. Even though she didn't appreciate this, it was quite _thrilling_ to have this gorgeous man carry her. Tōshirō was the least bit impressed.

'Mm, you're so _strong_~'

'Bloody Hell.'

Carefully, he placed Matsumoto back onto the bed and tucked her in, before advising her to drink some water. Rangiku sat upright and leaned against the wall, taking a couple of sips before passing the glass back to him. When Tōshirō leaned forwards to inspect her, she felt her heart skip a beat. Although she wasn't necessarily "there", she still knew how she felt about him, she wasn't _that_ delirious.

Fortunately he was warmer than usual, possibly the effect of being in her apartment for a while, so she wasn't shivering. In fact, his cool presence was quite nice. She was very warm anyway due to the flu. He dropped his gaze to look at her, his bright eyes fixed, then he smiled shortly.

'Rest some more. I'll be here when you wake up.'

As he was about to move away, Rangiku grabbed onto the sleeve of his shirt. Tōshirō looked at her again.

'What's wrong?' He was surprised to see her suddenly look so scared. 'Matsumoto?'

'You're staying?'

'... Yes, of course I'm staying.' Tōshirō shook his head. 'Snap out of it. You're overtired, and very ill. I, conveniently, have the day off tomorrow so I can watch over you. Go to sleep.'

Whatever happened there, he wasn't sure, but he was determined to look into it when she was better. With some reluctance, Rangiku let him leave, burying herself into the sheets. Leaving the bedroom, Tōshirō was stumped for a while, watching outside the window. It started to rain, some droplets trailing down the window, as if trying to catch each other.

Straightening, he claimed his violin and started playing again into the night.

* * *

**author's note**: Did you like? I hope you like. I had the headcanon where Tōshirō plays the violin for quite some time, so decided to use it in this. Thank you **sagitgirlth**, **[ Guest ] **and **[ snarkyvigilante ]** for reviewing the prior chapter. I am ever so grateful for your wonderful feedback. It really encourages me to continue.


	4. Ghost

**author's note**: It will be worth noting this story is now Mature rated. Yes, there is a lemon in this, but not a descriptive one. However, I haven't been innocent about it. If this ain't your thang, then fair do. You'll miss some important thoughts probably, though. I hope you enjoy the following chapter.

* * *

Flowers For A Ghost  
**Chapter 4.**

* * *

He woke up to screaming.

Instantly Tōshirō jumped to his feet, zanpakutō in hand, before it soon occurred to him there was no danger in sight. The only one who was panicking was Rangiku, and when he tried to reach her, she tackled him. Tōshirō, at first, grabbed onto her arm, 'Matsumoto, it's me,' but she were still dreaming, locked in a world or past she was desperate to break free from. Her fist went for his face, and he had no time to dodge.

Of course Hitsugaya wasn't angry that she hit him, but it was the _force_ she put into it which shocked him. She was violent, not like how she was when they trained together. This–– this was defensive, desperate, panic. She was fighting for her _life_. Tōshirō ignored the bloody nose and placed both hands at either side of her face when she came to. Rangiku gasped, eyes shooting open, staring at him, breathing heavily, and still panicking.

'It's okay. It's only me, no one else.'

Rangiku was silent, moving away from his touch. Tōshirō gave her room, backing away slightly, waiting until Matsumoto recognised her surroundings and what was happening. Gradually, she calmed down, and then finally looked at her commanding officer. The first thing she noticed was his eyes, how they seemed to glow in the little light of the moon, before spotting the blood.

'Captain,' she said, voice almost a whisper. Tōshirō knew she was still in shock. 'You're hurt–– Did I––? I did that?'

'It doesn't matter,' Tōshirō insisted, nearing her.

'I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry–– Oh God, I didn't mean to do that––'

'Matsumoto, it's fine.' Frowning, he sat at the edge of the bed. 'That wasn't your fault. You were having a bad dream. I didn't know you suffered from night terrors. Are they frequent?'

Clearly he had stepped into fragile matters. Rangiku held his gaze, then averted it towards her shaking hands. There was no point in hiding anymore secrets. After what Hitsugaya had just witnessed, he deserved to know. 'Uh––' However, she was still in a daze. Her head was pounding, and her eyes were still sore from the flu. '––Yes. I rarely sleep.' That slipped out without her meaning to. 'I'm rambling. Sorry.'

'It's fi–– Matsumoto, stop apologising. You never informed me you suffer from night terrors.'

'I found no reason to, Captain.' Then something occurred to her. 'Did you stay here _all_ night?'

'Well, to be exact, the night hasn't ended yet, but I did. I wasn't expecting you to lash out on me like that, though.' He allowed a little smile, hoping Rangiku would forget about the injury. Wiping his bloody nose, he leaned over to grab a tissue from her bedside table. 'Not a bad punch, Matsumoto. You would have knocked me out if I didn't move.'

However, Rangiku didn't catch onto the humour, which was very unusual. Tōshirō placed the tissue to his nose, eyeing her. To his dismay, the woman was still trembling, and her dismissal about the subject only made him feel more concerned. Rangiku did not look happy. If anything, it looked as if _he_ had punched _her_. 'You need to put some cream where I hit you––'

'The injury is internal, genius. I can't put cream up my nose. Look, don't worry. I have this all under control.'

'No, you don't. I just hit you in the face! That's not under control.'

'I don't mind that you hit me in the face, Matsumoto.'

That was when she fell silent. Sighing, Rangiku swerved her gaze away from him. Night terrors. How long had she endured them for? Most certainly before the time Gin discovered her. Admittedly, during the period she was with Ichimaru, the terrors came to a stop. It was as if his company cured her, and she hoped the remedy he provided was permanent. Obviously, this was not so. These night terrors had only got worse since his death, and they were usually repetitive.

The very reason she didn't want Tōshirō to know was that he would frown upon it. Night terrors made an individual very vulnerable. Sleep was vital. The Captain emphasised this a lot to her. Now, he was aware she rarely had a decent sleep, so what did that mean? Would he turn around and suggest she retire from her post? A soldier was useless if they couldn't function properly. One could only function properly after sleep.

'Would you like to talk about it?'

His question caught her off guard. Whenever Tōshirō expressed any signs of affection or sympathy, it always amazed her. Most of the time, he was like a rock. Whether she wanted to _talk about it_ was hard to answer. No, she didn't want to discuss her silly problems. They weren't his to deal with. Yet, she knew he was being sincere. Tōshirō didn't ask because he was nosy or just wanted to know. Talking about issues generally helped.

Swallowing, she grabbed her glass of water and had a sip. Her throat was still sore, but at least she could sit upright without feeling dizzy. Tōshirō craned his neck to the side, leaned forwards and placed a hand to her forehead. He raised his eyebrows. 'Not bad. You're starting to get some colour in your cheeks, too.' _How does he know? _The room was very dark. She could see his outline, and some of his features, but colour? Her Captain was talented in many regards and, for a dumb moment, she believed he could see in the dark.

'I'd rather not talk about it, Sir.'

Hitsugaya nodded. 'You know, Hinamori had nightmares. When we were younger, she would always come to my bed and sleep with me because her nightmares frightened her so much. She was lucky to have Granny and I. Heck, _I_ was lucky. I always used to call her a bed wetter because of this.' Tōshirō rarely smiled, but Matsumoto could tell he was happy, thinking back made him happy. 'There's no shame in having nightmares. It's the mind trying to be rid of haunting memories. In some regards, it's quite healthy. However, if they're frequent, then something isn't right.'

Rangiku opened her mouth to speak, then changed her mind with what she wanted to say. 'My past wasn't––' She couldn't think of the word.

'––Great,' Tōshirō added for her. 'I know. That's become very clear to me. I might just be your superior officer, Matsumoto, but I am aware of your behaviour. How you deal with the past. Yes, it is very unprofessional and illegal actually to be storing alcohol in the office. That doesn't bother me as much as _why_ you do it. You're not an alcoholic, but liquor is the perfect substance to forget, at least for a moment.'

'I see.'

'And there's your phobia of abandonment.'

Rangiku tensed. A jolt of emotions flourished through her, and she wasn't sure which one to act upon. Anger was the first: how did Tōshirō know? Then there was fear: what would he do? Afterwards, there was denial. 'I don't have a phobia of being abandoned, Captain.' Tōshirō didn't look convinced. 'I admit, I can get a little concerned when you decide to shove off without informing me, but that doesn't mean I'm _scared_.' Lies. They tasted like poison.

'Abarai told me.'

Clenching a fist, she narrowed her brows. 'What?'

'Once, you believed I had left you without saying good bye.' There was a horrible silence shared between them, and, from where he sat, he knew Rangiku was growing frustrated. He knew he was acting awfully, prodding at old wounds, but he had to do this. He had to know. 'You distorted your image of me. Because I left you without a word, you instantly reflected on Ichimaru, and what he had done. You were scared I'd abandon you.'

Rangiku wasn't looking at him. It infuriated her that he was right, and that he was so _blunt_ about it. Why would Renji inform Hitsugaya about this anyway? Without a doubt, she did believe for a moment that her Captain had left. That he didn't care about her or how she felt. As soon as he was gone, she was constantly distracted, weighed down by fear and this terrible emptiness. But for him to know this?

'I don't want to talk about it, Captain.'

Her words were iron, forced, struggled and he instantly stopped. Tōshirō nodded, and stood to his feet. 'Sleep well, Lieutenant,' he said shortly, and exited the bedroom. The first thing he wanted to do was slam his head into a wall. Not only had he reopened old scars, but he had left, allowing the blood to pool and ghosts to howl. Neither of them would be sleeping tonight, but Hitsugaya wanted to stay awake, in case she might endure another night terror.

To his relief, she didn't. Yet he was oblivious to the fact she didn't sleep after their discussion. Rangiku couldn't stop thinking as soon as he left the bedroom. Hugging her knees, she wanted to storm out and yell at him, yell at him for being so _cold_. How dare he prod at her like that, knowing how sensitive she was? _That_ was unprofessional. Too personal. What did he intend to get out of that anyway? What an idiot. What an idiot for caring. _No one_ cared. _No one_ wanted to know. _No one_ should know.

However, it wasn't _just that_ which bothered her. So many other thoughts whirled in her mind, threatening to break loose, and she wanted them to _stop_. Yes, she was scared. She was so afraid of him leaving her, by death or choice. Even though it was her duty to protect him, to watch his back, she wasn't all powerful. One day she would lose sight of him, or not be there in time. One day, he would vanish, leave her.

When the clock ticked past five in the morning, Rangiku escaped the confines of her bed. She couldn't handle hiding beneath the sheets any longer. Ignoring her raging headache and sore throat, she pulled on some jeans, a top and coat. Tōshirō's spiritual pressure could be felt from the other side of the apartment, so he wouldn't see her departing. Outside, she closed the door behind her, inhaled shortly, the air fresh, braced for snow to fall. It was cold, but she didn't care.

Wrapping her red coat firmer around her, she proceeded for a place she had never visited, but one she knew well. The streets were deserted, and there were no signs of life anywhere. It was peaceful, but she barely acknowledged this. Her head was loud, screaming at her, demanding to know what she was doing. Soon, she was close, and the first few flakes of snow began to fall, melting in her hair, and on her sleeves.

By now, her heart was furious, as if wanting to break through her ribcage. She couldn't focus. Rangiku sped her pace, the snow falling heavier and heavier, until it began to cover the pavements, and trees. Finally, she reached her destination. A field of long grass, isolated from the rest of Soul Society. The patch she wanted didn't take too long to find, and the stone stabbed into the ground was painted with snow.

Tears trickled down her cheeks while she furiously scraped away the snow with her hands, the engraved words revealing themselves: _Gin Ichimaru, at peace._ They were such few words, almost insulting to the man, but she knew he wouldn't care. The fact Rangiku had given him a grave was more honourable than anything. Falling to her knees, she wanted to push over the gravestone, smash it into tiny pieces, scream at it, but what was the point? He was dead. Gone. Whatever she did meant nothing.

Rangiku wiped away the tears with her sleeve, but they continued to fall. The snow came down in a hurry, burying the gravestone again. Matsumoto wiped away the flakes once more, not wanting the name to hide, but she only had to wait a couple of seconds for the snow to cover the name again. She sobbed bitterly, feeling useless and _weak_. This was wrong. Why had she come here to inspect Gin's grave? Why couldn't she just _forget_?

_Because without him, I wouldn't be alive_.

Why she cried this time was out of fury. The way Tōshirō looked at her when admitting she was scared, the way he spoke, the ghost of a smile across his face. Oh, she wanted to _hate_ Gin for making her this way, but whenever she thought of him, his face, his constant smiles, her heart ached. This man she had known for years and years, longer than Hitsugaya. He was her Angel, finding her with bright wings, and love. Yet his wings were corroded, breaking and tearing, because he wasn't the Angel she imagined.

'Matsumoto! _Matsumoto_!'

Rangiku ignored Tōshiro's angry calls. Instead she wiped her hand over Ichimaru's name again, cried a little more. Hitsugaya rushed for her, running as fast as he could, before he fell beside her, grabbing her by the scruff of her collar. A terrible fury was in his emerald eyes, but she also noticed a terrible sadness; betrayal.

'I didn't know where you went, dammit! Don't fucking–– Don't fucking do that!'

An apology wasn't going to be given. Rangiku shoved him away, which made him turn to the grave she was inspecting. _Gin Ichimaru_. At once the anger disappeared, and he looked at her again.

'I was worried,' he said.

Rangiku couldn't see him. Her vision was blurred with tears, but it soon made sense what was wrong: it was him. He was all she had. All she wanted. Ichimaru had abandoned her in death, he had abandoned her, left her. Tōshirō ran so far to find her. The anger in his eyes, the sadness and worry. He didn't want to lose her, either.

'Now you know how I feel,' she wanted to shout, but instead her voice was a whisper, cracked by the tears rolling down her cheeks. Rangiku felt like a little girl again. It had been such a long time since she felt so fragile and easy to break.

Tōshirō stared at her, amazed. This woman he loved was completely destroyed, damaged, her soul rotten. Abused. Neglected. _Hurt_. Two cold, but gentle hands claimed either side of her face and he shuffled closer. Rangiku clung onto his sleeves, struggling against the pain and emotions, struggling against the ghosts, struggling against him, the world, the horrors, the fire, the ice.

She was shaking under his touch, and he felt the tears slide down her cheeks while he held her close. A terrible, relieved smile reached his lips. His voice was stable, calm. 'It's okay, Matsumoto. I'm not going anywhere.' He jarred his teeth, eyes stinging with tears, 'I'm not going anywhere without you.'

Not even the warriors of Hell could pull them apart. Rangiku threw her arms around his neck and pressed herself to him. This time he didn't hesitate. The Captain pulled her closer, letting her cry against his shoulder, and he never let go. His arms were strong and firm, protective, wings, her shield.

'I'm not going anywhere,' he whispered into her ear. _I love you_. 'I'm not going anywhere.'

* * *

Tea had been prepared.

Gradually, the apartment became warmer. Tōshirō had kindly put on the heating, and watched the snow outside meet the ground. Already, it reached near to his ankles. After spending a good few hours in the snow, Rangiku's flu had worsened, but it wasn't a huge concern. Not for her, at least. Ever since she visited the grave, had Tōshirō hold her, she had been feeling much better. God knew how long she had needed to just _release_ like that, but it worked.

Bringing in a tray, carrying two mugs and a teapot, Tōshirō placed it down onto the table in the small living area. Passing her a mug, he grabbed his own and sat beside her. 'Here,' she said, sharing the blanket over her shoulders.

Hitsugaya shook his head. 'I'm fine.'

'I don't want you missing out,' she pulled a crooked smile, and he reluctantly shared the blanket with her. In order for him to have more, Rangiku shuffled closer to him, resting her head against his chest. Tōshirō didn't mind. Actually, he quite liked her against him. Placing an arm around her waist, they sat in silence for a moment, mugs of tea in hand.

What happened a while ago was very intimate, and Tōshirō was wise to not mention it. Yet his heart beat was still fast, he was still recovering. It was quite a shock what he witnessed, how Rangiku had behaved, the way she shoved him aside. Tōshirō hoped she never had to go through such a terrible phase alone before. Carefully, he ran a hand through her hair, lowering his gaze to look at her. Rangiku was dozing, the beat of his heart soothing, comforting–– _to prove he is alive_.

Each second, Hitsugaya was sure he was falling more and more in love with her. It was ridiculous, really. And if he told her, she would be so damn smug about it too. Brushing a thumb across her cheek, he turned to inspect a CD rack in the corner beside a CD player. Raising a brow, he tried to read some of the albums from where he sat, and there was one name which stuck out from all the rest.

'You listen to Elvis Presley?'

'Mm...?' Rangiku stirred, 'What?'

'You have Elvis?'

Rangiku slowly sat upright, rubbing her temple. 'Mm–– Who's Elvis?'

'Elvis Presley. Fantastic pop singer.'

'Who?'

'Matsumoto, you have an album in your CD rack. Look.' Enthusiastic, Tōshirō claimed the CD and showed her. 'This is my favourite one!'

'Oh, _Elvis_.'

_Who did she think I said_?

'I was given that a long time ago; rarely listen to it, to be honest,' she yawned, watching her Captain hurry for the CD player and slot the disc in. 'I guess you're a fan, perhaps?'

Hitsugaya didn't answer. Yes, he was a _huge_ fan of the old pop star. No one knew his passion for the man's music, except Rangiku. And she was quite surprised herself. Honestly, she didn't see her Captain as someone who loved music _anyway_. It was sweet to watch him look so excited though. That was nice.

The first track played. Tōshirō looked at her, then his eyes wandered, trying to remember what the song was.

_~ We're caught in a trap,_  
_I can't walk out_  
_Because I love you too much, baby ~_

'You like that?' Rangiku rolled her eyes.

'It's all right.' Wrong. _This is my favourite!_

Personally, Matsumoto didn't see the thrill in Elvis' voice, but she had to admit his music was quite catchy.

_~ We can't go on together,  
__With suspicious minds  
__And we can't build our dreams  
__With suspicious minds ~_

The smile fell from her face. 'Quite sad actually.'

Hitsugaya never let the lyrics effect him until now. Ignoring the odd sensation building, he returned to sit beside her, and grabbed his mug of tea. Taking a sip, he looked over at Rangiku, who appeared deep in thought. 'What's the matter?'

'Nothing.'

Suddenly, the song changed in pitch, and rhythm. Slower, quite jazzy, before picking up pace again. 'How are you?' He asked.

At first, she didn't know how to answer. Then she realised he was referring to her illness. 'Oh, _that_.' She shrugged. 'I can barely notice it.'

'You do look better,' he said, eyes on her, removing a strand of hair from her eye and curling it behind her ear. 'Another day and you'll be ready for work.' He ignored Rangiku's groan. 'And you have a _lot_ of catching up to do, Lieutenant.'

'So?'

'So, that means you have to work extra hard.'

Rangiku pulled a face.

'Work extra shifts.'

She slapped his shoulder. 'I hate you.'

Hitsugaya pulled a crooked smile. 'I'm only doing my job.'

'You're not meant to be doing your job _now_. Do you think about anything else?'

'... Yeah.'

Communication was sometimes never required between the two. In that one word, so much was revealed, his smile was small, gentle, for her. _You. I think about you_. Rangiku felt herself tense slightly, and she had to move. Wrapping the blanket around her shoulders, she stood to her feet. 'I'm going to make myself some warm milk.'

'What about your tea?' Hitsugaya queried.

'Don't want it.'

'More for me then,' he muttered, picking up her mug and downing the majority of it. Tōshirō leaned back, inhaling the sweet scent of his warm drink, Presley's voice singing in his ears.

Suddenly he heard a crash. Jumping to his feet, Tōshirō dropped the mug and switched the CD player off, hurrying towards the kitchen. The milk carton, alongside a tiny saucepan, had dropped to the floor, and milk was beginning to leak.

'Fuck, fuck, fuck,' Rangiku snatched a flannel from the sink and began to clear the mess.

Tōshirō helped her, picking the milk carton up. 'What happened? Did you slip?'

'No,' Rangiku's hands were shaking violently. Tōshirō widened his eyes and took hold of her hand clearing the milk. 'Captain––'

'What happened?'

When she looked at him again, he discovered the pain from before, when they were in the field. 'I–– It's nothing.'

'What were you thinking about?'

Everything. Gin, Tōshirō, what he said to her. However, he knew already. The joy from before had vanished.

'Him.' That piece of shit. That disgusting vile. When Tōshirō stood to his feet, Rangiku mimicked his action, 'Why can't you just––' He was desperate, wanting something from her. 'He's a bastard, Matsumoto. He's not worth your time. He's shit. He's _shit_.'

The man's words sliced at her like daggers. 'Don't talk about him that way.'

'Why not?' Tōshirō challenged. 'Look what he's done to you. Made a _mess_.' Instantly, he regretted his words. How could he say something like that? Rangiku was not a mess. She was perfect to him, brilliant, wonderful. He wanted to curse at himself, hit himself. How much he wished he thought before he spoke.

The room had began to decrease in temperature, but now it had risen. Rangiku glared at him. 'He hasn't made a _mess_ out of me, Captain. He has done so much for me, and I think you should acknowledge that before you start talking about him like you know him.'

'He proved who he was the moment I met him! He betrayed all of us, he _hurt_ you, almost killed my best friend. That _bastard_ is _sick_. I have every _reason_ to talk about like I do––'

'That _bastard_ saved my life. He was there for me when I needed him.'

'Not all the time, he wasn't, and we both know that, don't we?'

'Don't–– _Stop it_!'

'He _left_ you. That's the reason why you're so fucking frightened all the time, Matsumoto! That's why you can't _stand_ the thought of me leaving you. He's _ruined_ your perception of trust.'

Tōshirō stopped, breathing heavily, watching her. And it was clear what he had done; the damage caused. Rangiku was trembling, glowering at him, but tears began to swim in her eyes. There were thousands of things she wanted to _scream_ at him. Thousands of thing she wanted him to know. However, all she could do was walk over and slap him.

It was the sting which upset him, but the shock took more of an effect. Tōshirō looked back at her, like a punished little boy. Then everything fell apart. The little boy let his emotions spill, let the tears trickle down his cheeks. 'God dammit, Matsumoto, you're killing me.'

She kissed him, hands at the back of his head, she kissed him desperately, moaning into his mouth when he responded to her affections, pushing her up against the wall. Tōshirō scrunched his eyes closed, his hands uncertain, shaking, breath trembling, his chest pressed to hers. They touched, groaned, kissed, pulled, barely able to remain standing. Rangiku found the end of his shirt, ripped it apart and he flung it aside.

Their lips met again, and her body ached for his touch. She sent her hands down his firm chest, feeling his muscles tense, and she shivered, loving how cold and frozen he was. Cooling. Wonderful. Hitsugaya was rid of her top in a flash, kissing her jawline, sending kisses down to her collarbone. Rangiku arched her back slightly, gasping, and biting down on her lower lip. Running a hand through his white hair, she pulled, kissing his mouth. Tōshirō hands gently rose up her back, found her bra strap and unclipped the black lingerie. Without any effort, it fell to the floor.

She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, sighing in some sort of relief. Hitsugaya didn't need to be encouraged. Somehow, they managed to land on the bed, still lip-locked, and he crawled over her. Mouth ajar, he watched her for a moment, breath-taken this gorgeous woman was beneath him. Rangiku grew impatient, pushing his head down so they could kiss. Her legs came around his torso, and he moved forwards, his arousal pressed against her thigh.

'This is bizarre,' he breathed when their lips came apart for a moment.

Rangiku didn't have a response. Once their last piece of clothing was removed, she switched positions, straddling him at the hips. Hitsugaya could barely _breathe_, his mind was spinning, and he inhaled sharply when she let him enter. Rangiku rocked forwards slowly.

'Is that good?' He asked.

'_Fuck_.'

'Good.'

Quietly, he watched her move. Rangiku pressed her hands against his chest and soon became used to him, rocking back and forth gradually, gentle at first, quickening slightly when the pleasure began to increase. She gasped sharply, and he could tell she was struggling to keep in any noise. But she felt so _good_, and he wanted her to go a little faster, her gentle motions were driving him crazy. Was she teasing him? He could barely concentrate. Finally it seemed she couldn't remain stoic for long. She moaned, and he loved her expression, a mix between helplessness and dominance.

Although he was completely inexperienced, Tōshirō quickly caught on. His hands were like ice at her chest, and he raised himself into a sitting position so he could kiss her. Rangiku wasn't teasing, kissing him with a fierce force which he didn't know she possessed. She tasted of the tea they had not long ago, and he thought back to their discussion, their argument, what happened in the field. And he remembered why he was here, why he was making love to her, why he _did_ love her.

This angered him. Everything about her was almost carved by that man frequently in her thoughts. How much he loathed Ichimaru, what he had done. He didn't care what Gin's true motives were. He had _done it_. This poor, broken soul had to suffer his actions the most. Abandoned and ruined. Left for the dead. Why, Tōshirō couldn't even _imagine_ hurting her. She was too much, too precious; he loved her too much.

Their new position seemed to earn the most response out of her. Rangiku's hands rested at his shoulders and she moved harder against him, her breath heavy at his lips. Hitsugaya swallowed, raising his knees slightly so she could sit more comfortably in his lap. They moved together in sync, perfectly, the constant friction intensifying the shuddering bliss embracing her body.

The room around them was freezing, his spiritual pressure released in the most freeing action, but Matsumoto's warmth was more powerful, battling against his spirit. Hitsugaya looked down at her, groaning slightly when she moaned, gasped, murmured his name –– 'Tōshirō.' His name sounded good at her lips, he loved it. Two strong arms came about her waist and he took charge, placing her carefully down onto the bed. Rangiku ran her hands through his hair, heel pressed into his back while he pushed into her.

'I'm sorry,' she whispered, arms around his neck, holding him close.

Hitsugaya didn't want to hear her apologise. At first, he thought she was apologising for their silly argument. Then, he realised she was apologising for everything–– everything she had forced upon him, every emotional turmoil she forced him into, every pathetic, ridiculous excuse she had in order to skip work and avoid the pain. She was sorry for being her, sorry for what had happened, sorry for her way of dealing with it all.

It was clear in his eyes how he felt, what he thought, what he wanted. 'I know you are.'

Even hours afterwards, lying with her in his arms, he knew she was still sorry. He knew that, whatever they did, whatever happened, she would always be so very sorry that it was he. That it was he who had to fix the damage.

Yet even if it took a year, ten years, a hundred years, a thousand years, an eternity –– he would wait for her to heal.

* * *

**author's note**: Okay, I haven't a _clue_ how this story shall end. I found this chapter to be quite a roller coaster. Poor Ran :( And poor Tōshi! Well, they're so broken, I know they can make each other happy that way. Hitsugaya showed a LOT of emotion in this, but I think that was important. It shows how much of an effect Ran's sadness has on him, and it was about time he showed her just how much her misery means to him. Remember, he is human, and, even though he appears older in this, some aspects about him are still childish. Thank you **xminaxx**, **xninjaaaaaah**, **sagitgirlth** and **[ snarkyvigilante ] **for reviewing the prior chapter.


	5. Faith

**author's note**: Whoooaaaa, so, aside from **sagitgirlth**, you were all very quiet about the previous chapter. Maybe I should delay my updates in case ya'll not catching up, but we shall see. Anyway, thank you **saitgirlth** for constantly reviewing. I have confidence which tends to fall and rise, and when my readers tell me their thoughts, it makes such a _huge_ difference. Hopefully the previous chapter wasn't bad; I don't know–– you all love to puzzle me! Anyway, here is chapter five. I hope you enjoy and please do leave some feedback. It means so much to me when people do that.

* * *

Flowers For A Ghost  
**Chapter 5.**

* * *

Never in his life had Tōshirō felt so at peace. Limbs and muscles relaxed, he lay there, eyes set on the one person dozing beside him. A little smile stretched across his lips, and he couldn't stop looking her. Either this was protective urgencies kicking in, or she dazzled him that much. Hitsugaya wasn't a romantic, but, right now, he just couldn't stop smiling. What had happened not long ago was still hard to believe. It happened so fast, neither were expecting this to occur. As soon as she kissed him, Tōshirō was lost, and she was all he could cling to.

Rangiku was sleeping (no surprises, there), head resting against his chest. The white sheet covered half of their bodies, and Tōshirō let his hand glide from her shoulder, down her back. She was smooth and soft under his touch, warm. Tōshirō, for once, didn't want to wake her up. There was something so beautiful about her sleeping, she appeared so _calm_, as if there weren't any troubles in the world trying to damage her. How much he wished that were true.

The snow was still falling outside, and he checked the clock beside her bed. It was nearing three in the afternoon. As he was about to lie back again, he felt Rangiku stir. The smile broadened, and he watched her slowly come to her senses. Rangiku sighed and opened her eyes, looking at him once before smiling, and hugging him close. 'Good morning, you.'

'It's the afternoon, Matsumoto,' Tōshirō said bluntly. However, he was very happy to see her awake. He lightly placed a hand on her back, while she brushed a finger down his chest idly. 'Sleep well?'

'Mm.' Then it occurred to her she didn't necessarily dream about anything. No nightmares, no vivid images, nothing. She shuffled closer to Tōshirō, running her leg over his. 'Have you just been lying there watching me sleep?'

Tōshirō stopped smiling. 'Uh, no.'

Rangiku laughed, and raised herself slightly to look at him. 'Aww, that's so sweet! A little weird, but I'll let you off.'

'I wasn't watching you sleep,' Hitsugaya insisted, ears burning.

Amused, Rangiku kissed his lips softly. 'Well, at least you stayed.'

Upon that statement, Hitsugaya narrowed his brows. What did she mean by that? Sitting upright, he placed his hands at her thighs. 'Of course I did. Where else would I go?' There was his home, but to go there without her seemed ridiculous. 'I did say I wasn't going anywhere without you this morning. You haven't forgotten, have you?'

'Forgotten?' She raised her brows. 'Mm, _T__ō__shir__ō_––' She wrapped her arms around his neck, '––How could I forget?' The way she said his name sent a shiver down his spine. 'I remember _everything_.'

Hitsugaya sighed. 'Matsumoto––'

'If you don't start calling me by my first name, I'll leave the bed.'

Tōshirō shut his mouth. The smile returned to her face, 'That's a little better.' Taking the sheet she wrapped it around herself and straddled his lap again, spreading the sheet over his shoulders. Gently, she kissed his lips, slowly breaking the buss before going in for another. Tōshirō felt dizzy again, and even by these simple affections he could feel himself begging for more. How embarrassing. She exhaled, running a hand through his white hair. 'I like your ears,' she said, 'They're so small.'

Rolling his eyes, Hitsugaya tried to refocus her attention back to their wonderful make out session. However, Rangiku was too distracted. She flicked his earlobe, kissing his cheek.

'I'm surprised you can hear out of those.'

Taking her wrists, Hitsugaya impatiently got her full attention again. 'Cut it out. Listen, I have to rush to the office to drop off some files. You can come with me if you'd like.'

'Can't you stay away from there?' Rangiku muttered, pulling a face. 'I'll start to wonder if I'm boring you.'

Tōshirō knew she was only teasing, but he couldn't help groan. 'You sound ridiculous. Let me leave so I can get going.'

'Why should I?'

'... Because I'm your commanding officer!'

'You weren't _that_ commanding this morning,' she pulled a crooked grin.

Hitsugaya stopped. Swallowing, he wanted to scold her for acting so outrageously, but realised she had a point. _Still_–– 'That was very out of order!'

Matsumoto was laughing. 'Speaking of out of order––'

'I'm going, and I'm not coming back until you _stop_ saying such obscene things–– _oh_!' At once he stopped moving when Rangiku moved slightly in his lap, his manhood brushing against her flower. Inhaling sharply, he tried to remain stoic, but it was clear her simple action had worked. Clenching a fist, he spoke again, 'Get off me, _Lieutenant_.'

'I don't think a Lieutenant should be doing this,' she whispered against his lips.

'No–– I don't think so either,' Tōshirō said through jarred teeth. 'Damn it, Rangiku.'

'That's better,' she said, flustered, guiding him into her. Moaning, she pressed her hands against his chest and let him fall back. 'Why not let your Lieutenant do all the work?'

'For once,' he groaned. Tōshirō couldn't forget the experience she gave him before, but now it was happening again, he could barely breathe. 'Oof,' claiming her arms, he raised his knees and allowed Matsumoto to move freely. This time, both were more confident, somewhat aware of what they preferred and what they didn't. 'I'm going to get you back for this,' he breathed, 'This won't stop me from going to the office later––'

'Stop talking.' Never had he heard her sound so commanding before, but he obeyed. She was faster, more aware, and he felt he would burst if she didn't pause. Tōshirō smiled slightly when she started to gasp and moan, rocking into him repeatedly, the sheet slipping from her shoulders, bed creaking from their movement. The Captain wanted her to go right to the end, but new to this, he could barely control himself, and the noises she was making didn't help.

Biting hard on his lower lip, he kept silent, member dangerously throbbing. About another seven minutes passed, but he was barely aware of the time. Hitsugaya scrunched his eyes closed and arched his back suddenly when he released. For a couple of seconds, he just lay there dumbly. Rangiku, quite smug, rested on his chest again, allowing themselves to catch their breath.

His hands ran down her back, and she could feel his fast heart beat. There was something entertaining about the sight of seeing Hitsugaya so blown away. This man was scary and intimidating to everyone else, yet she managed to silence him quite easily. 'Not bad, Tōshirō. You're getting there.'

'What?' He scowled.

Rangiku didn't respond, snuggling up against him. Honestly, she wouldn't mind falling asleep again, with him holding her. Yet she had unfortunately fallen in love with a workaholic, and Hitsugaya wasn't going to be lying around for much longer. Even if she managed to seduce him effortlessly. Soon, his hands, though gentle, claimed her arms and he lifted themselves up.

'I have to go. Don't touch me.'

That earned a grin. 'I'll keep my hands to myself,' she promised, letting him escape the bed. Wrapping the sheet around herself, she watched him walk out of the bedroom, inspecting him quite fondly. Oblivious, Tōshirō started to search for wherever his clothes were. Cheeks blushing, and a little humiliated, he grabbed his shirt which was flung over the table, his belt which miraculously managed to hang from a light (blimey, what was Rangiku thinking?!) and his shoes. His boxers and trousers were in the bedroom, mixed with the bed linen.

Properly dressed he turned to Matsumoto and briefly kissed her lips, knowing what would happen if he lingered for longer. 'Behave. I don't want to come back to your apartment on fire.'

'I'll try,' she teased, rubbing her nose to his. Tōshirō rolled his eyes, grabbed his coat and left the apartment.

* * *

Originally, Hitsugaya had planned to head to his place, grab something and then drop it off at the office. Despite how she managed to easily embarrass him and his pride, Tōshirō was eager to return back to his newfound lover. Her presence made him happy, she was happy, and all of those combined made the world that much brighter for him. Anyway, it _was_ their day off, and probably one of few times they could spend together.

Yet his plans were changed swiftly. Upon entering the office, Tōshirō placed his folder onto the desk and was about to head out when he heard a voice at the door. 'Ah, there you are!'

Turning around, he came face-to-face with Renji. 'What's the matter?'

'I was hoping you'd be here. There's a Hollow that needs to be taken care of, quite a nasty bastard, which you should be able to tackle without a problem.' The Vice-Captain gestured for Hitsugaya to follow him. 'With your abilities with a zanpakutō it shouldn't take too long.'

This would always involve a trip to The World of the Living. Hitsugaya couldn't believe it. 'I refuse. This is my day off. Find someone else who's getting paid.'

'Wow, so you work just for money?'

'I work when it is supposed to my shift.'

Renji folded his arms. Never had Tōshirō turned down something like this. Whether or not it was his day off, Tōshirō was keen to be rid of danger. He _liked_ to help people. So when he turned down this offer, Renji was very suspicious. 'You know they're not going to appreciate hearing this. Those at the top. If we've got you, then it shouldn't take too long. You can catch up on your sleep then, Captain.'

It had nothing to do with sleep or lazing around. All Tōshirō could think about was Rangiku, and that she was waiting for him to return. True, his trip to The World of the Living shouldn't take too long. However, surely it would be decent of him to inform his Lieutenant first. Especially after everything that had happened. _I'm not going anywhere without you_. Was he already lying to her? Frowning, he considered his options.

Either go, and hope to be back soon, or refuse and rouse suspicion. For Rangiku's sake, Tōshirō had to oblige. He must. If anyone started to wonder, then things would get difficult. In their own time, the two would announce their relationship. Renji cocked a brow at him, waiting. Hitsugaya inhaled, and then nodded. 'Fine.'

Both Shinigami left the office and headed out. All the while, Tōshirō tried to block out the image of Rangiku to avoid distraction. What he was doing was bad, he knew it. Hopefully she would come to forgive him, and he would be back home very shortly. This was his duty, as Captain and as a Shinigami. And he knew she would do the same.

However, he didn't come back.

Rangiku started to grow suspicious after an hour, and by the time three hours had gone past, she was dressed and very tempted to leave the apartment and find him. She knew he was wise, that he wouldn't do anything stupid. The Captain had probably been delayed with extra work at the Gotei, he was required so much. This she didn't mind. She was expecting him to get held up by something.

Yet when it neared seven in the evening, she couldn't wait any longer. At the moment, Matsumoto wasn't angry. If she found him working at the office, then she would just feel relieved. For some odd reason, she couldn't help but wonder something had gone horribly wrong. Heart in her mouth, she grabbed her coat and approached the Gotei, hoping, _hoping_ she was just acting paranoid and ridiculous. Her emotions had probably enhanced from their activities previously. All she wanted to know was that he was okay, so this strange, empty feeling in her chest would vanish.

Reaching the office, she entered, and was welcomed to a dark room. Rangiku frowned, wondering if he might be in a meeting, but she knew she was kidding herself. Tōshirō would have known if he had a meeting coming up; he would have told her. Leaving the office, Matsumoto tried to convince herself he was fine. She needed to head back to her place and everything would be okay. Yet her mind thought differently–– she found herself walking towards the fourth division barracks. _It's fine, you're being pathetic, snap out of it_. Yes, he would tell her to snap out of it. She waited for him to appear around the corner and scold her for arriving.

But she would rather look like an idiot to him than not _care_. Upon entering the barracks, she brushed past a couple of the division members, passing some wards before spotting a familiar figure up ahead. His forehead was pressed against the glass to one of the wards, and he barely seemed conscious. Blood trickled from his temple, and he was very tense.

'Ichigo...?'

The male whipped his head around in surprise. Then he sighed, pulling a rather sympathetic expression. 'I guess you heard then,' he said, straightening and walking towards her.

Rangiku's heart stopped. 'Heard what?'

For a second, he believed she was joking around, but there was no humour in her eyes. Ichigo narrowed his brows. 'You don't know? When did you get here?'

'Don't know what?' Rangiku was growing impatient. She glanced through the window he was looking at, but the beds within were empty. 'Talk to me.' Surprisingly, her voice was still gentle, but Ichigo noticed an element of fear and frustration. He couldn't believe she didn't know, and he wasn't sure if he should be the one to inform her.

'Hitsugaya had a pretty brutal encounter with a Hollow not long ago. Stabbed him right through the chest, and almost removed his arm. He's recovering, but––'

'Where is he?' Now, the Rangiku he knew was gone completely. She was a lion, anger brewing in her eyes. Something had gone wrong here; this wasn't right. Every day Tōshirō was in danger of death, and fatal injuries. Surely she would expect this day to come. '_Where_ is my Captain?'

'I'll show you,' he said, and wasted no time to escort the Lieutenant towards the ward. When they approached the door, Matsumoto brushed past him, entered, and stood frozen at what she witnessed.

Tōshirō was still bloody from the battle, those of the division bandaging his wounds and giving the correct treatment. The Captain was unconscious, a huge gash across one side of his face. His wounded arm was covered, and the blood trickling off the edges of the bed made her want to vomit. Rangiku had seen blood and many mangled bodies before. She was used to the sight, and it wasn't an issue. But to see _T__ō__shir__ō_, half dead––

Hesitantly, Ichigo stepped closer to her, but before he could speak a word Matsumoto turned around and left. She didn't know how to respond. How could it be that Tōshirō was talking to her only a few hours before, and he was now fatally wounded on a hospital bed? How could he _do that_? How could he do something so reckless and not tell her? How dare he almost get himself killed, even after what had happened.

Anger. That was the emotion which took control. Rangiku was trembling while she tried to hurry out of the Gotei. She didn't want to think, didn't want to think about his body, how he was unconscious, the fact blood still dripped from his wounds. He was _leaving_ her. After what he said, that he wouldn't go anywhere without her, he was _leaving_, _dying_. That bastard. That fucking piece of shit. He knew exactly how she felt and he just _left_.

When the tears came, she furiously wiped them away. How could she be crying? If he died, then so be it. It was his fault. _What am I doing_? Rangiku loathed herself for thinking such thoughts. Tōshirō didn't deserve death. No one did. He had done so much for her, tried to fix her, it wasn't his fault he was called for duty at the last minute. That was their job, their career, and both were devoted to their duty as soldiers, as Shinigami. If Captain Hitsugaya died in battle, then that was honourable. He died for a _cause_, not for nothing.

–– _I don't want him to die, though_. And that was it. Matsumoto didn't want him to leave her. Even if it wasn't by choice, she didn't want him to die. Didn't want him to slip through her fingers. She should have been there to protect him, to watch his back, so nothing like this could ever happen. Stopping in the empty hallway, Matsumoto wiped her eyes with her sleeve. _I love him_. She loved him, so much. To lose him meant _everything_. _Don't leave me too_.

'Vice-Captain!'

_You've got to be kidding me_. 'Look, I'm not supposed to be here––'

'Matsumoto, I was hoping you'd arrive.'

Reluctantly, she turned around, furious to be disturbed. Then her anger faded slightly when she saw Renji approaching her. '_Hoping_? Why?'

'I––' Renji stopped, noticing Rangiku had been crying. Her eyes were sore, evidence that she had wiped away tears. 'I'm sorry about Captain Hitsugaya. He unfortunately wasn't thinking straight when we found the Hollow. Sort of ran for the damn thing. The Hollow was more powerful than we predicted.' Renji shrugged. 'I don't know why; guess something was on his mind or he just wanted to get home for dinner. You all right?'

She nodded, 'No.'

'He'll be fine. I know he looks like a mess right now––'

'He wasn't supposed to be on duty, Abarai!' Her tone was sharp, and he flinched slightly. 'All the Captain was supposed to do was drop off a folder and be done.'

Renji cocked back his head. 'He was more than free to decline, y'know. What's going on?'

Matsumoto glared at him, but she knew her actions were pointless. All she was doing was trying to find someone to blame, when there wasn't anyone who was guilty. What happened was unfortunate, but it happened, and that was that. Why Hitsugaya, though? Why him? _Why T__ō__shir__ō_? 'I just–– I just want him to be okay.' She quickly wiped away an escaping tear. 'That's all.'

'Were you expecting him to return?'

Rangiku wished Renji would leave her alone. 'I wasn't expecting him to do _anything_.'

'He kept asking for you,' Abarai said, curling his lips. 'When he was wounded, he was pretty much delirious. Started asking for you as if you were there. I think you were on his mind, if that helps.' And that was the reason he was on that hospital bed, bleeding to death. 'I don't think Hitsugaya would want to see you this way.'

That was true, but Matsumoto couldn't help herself. To know Tōshirō had been asking for her, wanting her, only made matter worse. _He should have told me he was going. I should have come with him_. Rangiku just wanted to be alone. She didn't want company, she just needed to be alone. 'I don't think he would either,' she said, turning around and continuing her way out. Hopefully, Tōshirō would recover, he would be fine, she would be able to talk to him and that would be all.

One thing she hated more than anything was feeling _useless_. To be unavailable, especially for someone who required her presence. Arriving back at her apartment, she flung her coat to the side and collapsed onto the bed, hugging the pillow. Tears stung her eyes when she thought about Tōshirō again, ruined. She shook, wishing she could be there, wishing she could hold his hand, but he wouldn't notice, and she wouldn't be allowed in for a while. She was _useless_, arriving too late. How many times had she been_ too late_?

Gin's dead body flashed through her mind and she burst into tears. It wasn't Ichimaru though which made her cry, it wasn't he who made her heart break again. It was Tōshirō, seeing him in so much agony, covered in wounds, arm almost hanging off. Without a doubt, the division would heal him, he was very responsive to the treatment. Yet he was still hurt. She didn't want to imagine what happened to him, how that wretched Hollow battered his limbs.

"_God dammit, Matsumoto, you're killing me."_

... _You're killing me too_, she thought, squeezing the pillow, letting the last tear slide down her cheek.

* * *

There was an odd, _beep_ing noise nearby. For a while, he just lay there, eyes closed, listening. Then, gradually, he began to hear voices, two of them, quiet. They were talking together in hushed voices, but Tōshirō couldn't hear their words. When he tried to move his right arm, he felt nothing. He tried to move his left arm, felt it move. Still dazed, Hitsugaya tried to move his body, but remained very still. For a second, he thought Matsumoto was resting on his chest, like before. A silly smile came to his lips, but it instantly faded when he felt a sting at his cheek.

Soon, it all came flooding back. The huge Hollow, the most ugliest creature Hitsugaya had ever seen, jaws large, fangs so sharp they could cut through anything. How foolish he was! Enraged by the fact he couldn't be with Rangiku, that he had lied to her, the stupid idiot ran for the Hollow, zanpakutō in hand, prepared to crush its head with ice. However, that chance never came. The Hollow was surprisingly fast, Hitsugaya had underestimated it.

_Rangiku..._

Opening his eyes, Hitsugaya watched the white ceiling, squinting slightly by the blinding lights. He turned his head, wincing at the pain from his cheek down to his collarbone. Two members of the fourth division were nearby, hovering over some work on a desk. He grimaced, suddenly feeling a hot stab of pain jolt from his right arm to the majority of his limbs. That fucking Hollow had a nasty go at him, but Hitsugaya had faith in Renji and Kurosaki. They were there with him and were more than prepared to take that beast down.

... _Rangiku_!

How long had it been? Was she still waiting? Did she now know he had lied to her? Hitsugaya shot upright, and yelped in pain, his wounds stretching from his sudden movement. At once both members of the division hurried over and settled him back down. Hitsugaya decided to be cooperative. There was no point in trying to find Rangiku. She knew, of course she did.

_She thinks I left her without a word_.

He wasn't frustrated or angry with himself. Tōshirō was upset. _I left her. I left her and didn't come back_. Idiot. _Fucking idiot, fucking asshole_. _What have I done_? Grabbing hold of one of the Shinigami's sleeve, he said, 'Have you seen Lieutenant Matsumoto?'

'Yes, she arrived earlier today. Captain, you must rest. Your wounds are still healing. Take it easy.'

'You need to tell my Vice-Captain to come see me.'

'Hitsuga––'

'_Now_! That is an order, am I clear?'

A pause. The man nodded. 'Yes, Sir.'

'Good. And it's _Captain_ Hitsugaya. Don't you dare disobey another command.' He might be wounded, but he could still freeze up a room if he wanted. When the medical Shinigami went away, Hitsugaya fell back onto the pillow.

If he could just talk to her quickly, he could tell her the truth about what happened. If she _would _let him talk, though. _When I said I wouldn't leave you, I meant it_.


	6. Surrender

Flowers For A Ghost  
**Chapter 6.**

* * *

She didn't arrive.

Furious, Tōshirō decided to give up hoping. If she was going to behave this way, so be it. Matsumoto _should_ have come to him, though, allowed him to explain. He doubted the fourth squad member had disobeyed his command, so it seemed reasonable to assume Rangiku refused to see him. _Traitor_. It was a harsh thought, and he knew he was overreacting, but he couldn't stop himself. Did she not _trust_ him? After everything, she still didn't _trust_ him? No, no he had to be patient. Tōshirō didn't know her past as well as he would have liked, he didn't know _her_ as well as he would have liked.

_You've hurt her, though_–– Hitsugaya could never escape this result. He had stepped out of line, allowed emotions to take control, and fought when he shouldn't have. The Captain had humiliated himself before a Vice-Captain and a substitute. Looking down at his trembling hands, he recounted in his head what happened, what was going on in his mind. He _wished_ the memory was blank, a blur, but he remembered it very clearly. Rangiku. She was all he saw, her face the first time they met after Ichimaru's death, the defeat in her eyes. How much he _feared_ to witness her like that again. Because of _him_.

The man was so obsessed in surviving, so obsessed in keeping her happy, he had only placed himself in further danger. Swallowing, he ran a hand through his hair. Matsumoto would feel insulted. How dare he place her _feelings_ before his _life_? How dare he assume she was _weak_, that she couldn't survive without him. _I'm not like her_. Rangiku could live without him, he wasn't a necessity. Yet, sitting there, Hitsugaya doubted himself immensely. She might survive, but he? If she was gone, he might breathe for hundreds of years, but he wouldn't _live_. There was no life for him if she didn't share the gift too.

Naturally, Tōshirō was a man of action. To be confined in a bed, an arm barely hanging by its bones, Hitsugaya was frustrated and impatient. He wanted to stand and find her, to scold her for disobeying his orders. As his Lieutenant, she had acted out of line. This had nothing to do with _personal_ issues. This was _work_, this was _business_, and she had turned her back on him. _You silly girl_, he thought angrily. Hitsugaya turned sharply, and he saw his reflection on one of the screens in the room. For a moment, he just stared, before slowly raising his hand to lightly brush over his damaged cheek. He looked like a monster. One side of his face was almost torn away, and it was amazing the bone couldn't be seen.

The amount of damage caused because he had fallen in love. How out of control he became because he loved Rangiku. Slowly, he faced forwards, holding his breath. It was clear what he had to do, what decision they both had to make. _I'm failing to make her happy_–– he could try, they could share nights and mornings wrapped in each other's arms, but war would call for them. Death would always linger. Tōshirō couldn't see her smile if all she saw was Hell in his eyes, waiting for him. And death would come easier if she was all he thought about. Hitsugaya was devoted to his work, more than he was devoted to love. _More devoted to my duty, than I am devoted to her._

'I'm going.'

Two members of the fourth squad looked at him in amazement. One quickly recovered and approached him. 'Captain, I advise you stay in bed for a while longer. Your arm––'

'I don't care about my arm. It'll heal.' Tōshirō removed the sheet and slowly let his feet find the ground. The Captain wobbled slightly when he relied on his balance completely, but he was grateful to be able to stand. Thanks to the medication, his arm wasn't causing much pain. 'I'm going home.' He swerved his gaze to the door. '.. my home,' he mumbled under his breath.

Dressed and after a speedy checkover, Hitsugaya exited the Gotei and gradually proceeded for his apartment. All the while, he felt this terrible anger and guilt rushing through him. The Captain was absolutely exhausted, he could barely keep his eyes open. But, dammit, he was so _furious_. At her. He shouldn't take her refusal so personally but he did. Why–– Why did she have to hurt him like that? Let him wait like an utter fool. _I've always been a fucking fool. We both have_.

Inside his apartment, he was about to head straight for bed, but he had to check himself in the mirror, see if his reflection from before was accurate. Flicking on the light in the bathroom, he looked in the mirror. The reflection was accurate. That Hollow was not _gentle_. The gash across his face appeared infected, but it wasn't. The fourth division were pretty skilled with medicine. It didn't look good, though. Actually, Hitsugaya almost looked deformed. He _hated_ the sight. Brushing a hand over his wound, he felt his heart beat faster. This time, it wasn't out of anger.

Tōshirō placed a hand onto the sink to balance himself. It was funny how his true personality was beginning to show: two-faced, ugly, monstrous. And he knew the wound wouldn't heal. It never would. Not unless he brought her back into his arms, held her close. However, Tōshirō wasn't going to force Rangiku through anything like that again. He didn't want a relationship with someone he worked with constantly on the battlefield. Maybe, at the end of the day, he didn't want to love _anyone_. Experience had shown him how love was so _vicious_, how it controlled his mind and made him _weak_.

'I'm sorry,' he finally said, refusing to look at himself again. _I'm sorry for what I'm about to do_.

* * *

When they next met, Tōshirō shouldn't have been there. The Gotei were not expecting him to appear for at least a week in order to heal. However, Hitsugaya was far too passionate about his work. Overnight, his arm became moveable. The Captain was thankful for possessing quick recovery traits. Yet he knew he shouldn't let confidence get the better of him. He may have his arm, but that didn't mean he could trust his limbs completely yet. Besides, the Hollow he was facing was just as aggressive as the previous.

This time, Hitsugaya tried to keep Rangiku out of his thoughts. She was beside him, and even though they hadn't spoken since yesterday morning, he trusted her. It wasn't possible to have a proper conversation when fighting a Hollow, and it was only when the beast had been defeated did Tōshirō try to catch her gaze. Matsumoto noticed before he did that the Hollow was still "alive". It struggled onto its hind legs, before screaming at them. Tōshirō was about to shout an order, but his voice refused to escape. Instead he choked slightly, and was going to grab onto his zanapakutō, but the Hollow flung him aside with its large paw, resulting in the Captain landing heavily on his already wounded back.

Everything was blurry. Teeth jarred, he snatched the zanpakutō on the ground, and rushed for the Hollow again, yet it was his arm which let him down. A sharp, horrid sting shot from his wound and he yelped, falling to his knees. _Fuck_. Never had he been in such a humiliating situation, and he couldn't let his Lieutenant fight this creature alone. Looking up, he paused, _finally hesitated_, and realised she was all right. Matsumoto was much more focussed than he was. _Of course_. In many ways, Rangiku was far more capable, she didn't have a pathetic mind rattling on constantly. She managed to switch off every little issue, until the real threat was gone.

It was Hitsugaya who ruined it all. At first, he just knelt there, watching closely, heart hammering against his chest. It would be foolish of him to try and fight. He was down. That much was for certain. This Hollow was massive though against one Shinigami. Without a doubt, Rangiku would have destroyed the damn thing if he didn't suddenly scream at her to watch his claws which were coming straight for her. Tōshirō wasn't sure how it happened: one second her zanpakutō was in hand, and the Hollow was losing quickly, its limbs wobbling and crashing to the side. The next, he had made her lose concentration. Rangiku registered his yell as something else; as a plea of sorts, and she instantly realised her mistake. Looking at _him_ was a mistake. The gash across his face, the limp arm–– the _fear_ in his eyes––

Fortunately, the damage wasn't _that_ severe, but all Tōshirō saw was the blood. Everything seemed to have slowed, and all he could hear was his heart beat. _Thump, thump, thump, thump_–– One of the Hollow's sharp claws dug into her side, stabbing into her flesh, before viciously pulling out. It was her short, shocked cry which he heard next and he watched his subordinate fall to the ground, quickly rising to her feet, pressing a hand against her wound to cease the bleeding.

Yet she never had the chance to fight. A blizzard almost made her tumble backwards, and her body shivered, teeth chattering when the entire area was covered in ice. A storm of snow crashed into the Hollow, and it screamed, falling to the side. Rangiku knew exactly what was happening, and she desperately clung onto her zanpakutō, inhaling sharply. Squinting her eyes, she tried to find her Captain through the blizzard, but she couldn't. It was so _cold_. For a moment, all was silent, and the Hollow managed to find its balance. Then, a large, roaring blue dragon thundered through the Hollow, breaking out of its back. The dragon swerved, ice dancing around its form, and stabbed the Hollow again. Rangiku didn't know what to do, she could only stare in horror while the dragon rushed through the Hollow's skull, and then burst into snow.

Then she found him. Her Captain, wings protruding from his spine, the dragon returning to the tip of his zanpakutō. His eyes were glowing, a frightening blue, and when he took a step forward, the ground beneath him became covered in ice. Rangiku tried to read his expression, but he looked _wooden_, blunt, emotionless, _powerful_.

The Hollow was gone, dead, long before Hitsugaya let Hyourinmaru return to the blade. Hopefully residing amongst those at Soul Society. Yet the Hollow's fate was not of Rangiku's concern right now. Tōshirō exhaled slowly, and dropped his zanpakutō, falling to his knees again. In a flash, Matsumoto was in front of him, unsure with what to do. Asking him if he was all right sounded ridiculous. He was _not_ all right, especially after what she just witnessed.

Despite everything, Tōshirō had let his guard down. He had seen Rangiku get hurt–– _I lost control_.

'You should get that wound checked,' he said, grunting in pain.

'You're an idiot!' Matsumoto scolded. She grabbed his arm and helped her Captain to his feet.

'Don't––' Tōshirō moved away from her. 'Don't call me an "idiot".'

Now, she could look at him properly. Now, she could see the horrible gash across his face. He expected her to point, point out the obvious, laugh at him, scowl at him, hit him, smack him. _I am an idiot; you make me one_. But, seeing him like this, almost ripped apart, broke her heart. 'Why can't you look after yourself?' She pushed him, tears stinging in her eyes. 'What's the matter with you?'

'The matter with _me_?' He retorted, 'I'm not the one refusing to see you after you've been injured. I _waited_ for you last night. I thought you'd come to see how I am, but you're _that_ immature, aren't you? You act like a child so much, Matsumoto, it drives me insane. If you want to act so _pathetically_, then warn me beforehand so I don't look like a fool.'

'Ah, I apologise, Tōshirō. It's always how _you_ look to everyone else. It's always your reputation you care about, and nothing else.'

'You'll refer to me as _Captain Hitsugaya_, Lieutenant.'

'Don't you _dare_ patronise me!'

'I'm not patronising you, merely _informing_ you on how to act professionally. You seem to have a lot of trouble doing that.'

Rangiku said nothing. She was breathing heavily out of anger, and when she finally let the tears trickle down her cheeks, Tōshirō loathed himself bitterly. Stepping back, she shrugged. 'You're impossible.' A pause, and she angrily wiped her tears away. 'I didn't see you because I knew I would only make things worse. You got yourself injured because I was on your mind. In order for you to recover and focus on what mattered, I had to be away from you.'

'Good,' he said shortly. 'Then that makes it easier for me.'

'What...?'

'You're my Vice-Captain and nothing more. I'm considering having you transferred, seeing as your presence makes it difficult for me to concentrate.'

Rangiku wasn't sure what hurt her more: the fact he just _ended_ their relationship, as friends, colleagues, lovers, whatever. But also that he wanted her _transferred_. After so long, he was going to throw her aside like she was nothing? A twisted snarl reached her lips. 'That's like you isn't it, _Captain Hitsugaya_? Blame other people for your problems.'

'Stop talking!' Tōshirō exclaimed. '_Stop talking_. Don't talk about me as if you know me.'

'You certainly don't know me, _Captain_.'

Something snapped. He glared at her, came so close their noses were almost touching. 'If you dare answer back, I'll have you dismissed from the Gotei permanently. I am your commanding officer, and I have been for the past thirty-six years. You'll do as I command, Lieutenant, and you will _not_ answer back. One more word from you, and you'll regret you ever spoke in the first place.'

Rangiku didn't move. She held his gaze, daring him. Internally, though, she was screaming. How could everything dissolve so fast? How could he be so cruel to her? Straightening herself, her expression became stoic, as if nothing had happened between them. Tōshirō looked down at her, wanting more than anything for her to disobey him, to knock some sense into his idiotic self, but she was holding her ground subtly. She was much too strong for him to break down. He expected her eyes to fall from his, to look at his gash, look at how ugly his wound was, but her gaze never swayed. It was focussed.

Their spirits tackled each other, cold and warm, fire and ice. Neither was winning. They battled constantly, and the temperature surrounding them wasn't fixed. Tōshirō looked away, almost in surrender. He couldn't look at her for much longer; she was hurting him, her refusal to show any hint of remorse for his words. The Captain turned around, and she finally felt a release. Matsumoto faced her back to him, waited on his orders to return to Soul Society. She was shaking, unable to control the tears escaping her eyes, dripping to the snowy ground. What had happened was unexpected, and neither were prepared.

* * *

_Ran,  
__I'm not a man, anymore. I think I forgot what "human" was a long time ago, but–– It's not like I care, to be honest. What I'm hoping, I suppose, is that you don't assume me to possess the qualities of a man. Be it sense, the ability to see things through, able to walk, have a heart, feel emotions. Yet, whatever I do, whatever happens, at least I can comfort you in knowing you're the exception. You always have been. Even if everything crumbles around us, burns and dies, just having you is all I require to live. So, I ask nicely, if you'd remember this about me: I do this for you.  
__Only for you, do I embrace love.  
_–– _Gin._

When it started raining, Matsumoto scrunched up the letter in her hand and clung to it. She stared at the window, watched the droplets create a trail over the glass. The darkness was greedy tonight, zapping colour from the grass and houses and sky. She slowly closed her eyes and collapsed onto the settee, pinching the bridge of her nose. She was so _tired_. Nothing made sense anymore. Nothing. Leaning forwards, she stared at the scrunched up piece of paper in her palm and let it fall, land onto the floor.

**I do this for you**.

No. _No, don't_. _Don't try and make things __**right**_. Shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself. _Stop making everything convenient for you. I don't want anyone to sacrifice themselves for me_. If only she could find Ichimaru right now, grab him by the collar and tell him this. Stop him, encourage him to just _stop_, let the war cease. _Don't leave me again, just stop it_. He would grin at her, of course he would, and tell her to calm down, _you know nothin', Ran_. _–– You're in my way_. Then, the grin would fall, the face would distort, and green eyes would stare back at her, a fire burning in his gaze. _I do this for __**you**_.

Everything was for her. The transferral, the heartbreak, _everything_ was for her, for her to be happy. Why was Ichimaru so _stupid_? Why was he so pathetic and _stupid_? Why wouldn't he listen to her? Why wouldn't he just stop for a moment, not demand that he was her Captain, her King, and let her _speak_. _I'm not him_. _You're killing me, Matsumoto_. The slap, his lips at her skin, cold hands trembling and touching, his hot breath and scent. _I'm not going anywhere without you_.

–– **Stop **_**lying**_** to me**.

* * *

Tōshirō felt old. The man was soaked, and his knees felt like they would give in at any moment. Ordering a cup of tea at a stand on a street, he waited, until he received the warm drink, paid, and stood there, sipping. It was so quiet, so empty. Yet ghosts and Shinigami walked past, some smiling, some deep in thought, others laughing, others alone, like he. However, all had a destination in mind, they all had somewhere to be, to a home, to a friend, to a lover, to be held. It was amazing how, despite being crowded by many others, he felt like the loneliest individual to walk the Society of souls.

No longer did he feel as if he _possessed_ a soul. The moment he excused her from the office later that day, she had stolen his soul and heart from him, and he would never have these valuable treasures back. He tightened his grip on the cup, frowned, breathed heavily. Tōshirō looked up, watched the rain fall from the clouds, trickle down his cheeks, like tears. As if there was a Goddess above, weeping, and he was catching the tears which fell from her broken irises. Her shattered heart.

Throwing his plastic cup into the bin, Hitsugaya shoved his hands into his pockets and decided to walk home. It was getting warmer. While people walked past, buried in coats, hidden beneath umbrellas, Tōshirō embraced a heat he had encountered before. It was so warm, and, for a second, he stopped short, wondering if he saw the source of this wonderful sensation. Yet his mind was desperate, playing tricks on him. After what he had said, after confirming everything was done, she wouldn't come for him. He didn't deserve her affections anymore; he had made it final. Absolute.

–– _But I'm so lonely_.

Never did he care about isolation. Tōshirō had always loved being alone, but, now, he just desired company. Desired _her_ company. It was a horrible feeling, a huge hole in his chest, deep and bleeding. His socks were soaked, he could feel water splashing about in his boots. He was a mess. He had always been a mess; utterly useless. How could people worship him, when he was _nothing_ on his own? _Build an army, like you would build a Fort_. _Remove a part of the wall, then it shall all come crashing down_.

'Captain?'

_My mind_, he thought at first, until he saw her eyes. Tōshirō stopped waking, stared at her, and his heart started to beat again, pump the blood, keep him alive. She was under an umbrella, so it was no surprise he didn't spot her at first. Yet, now, he could just stare, just stand there. He wanted to know why she was here, what was she _doing_ here? _Why are you doing this, Rangiku?_

'You look tired,' he commented, raising his chin.

'I am.'

A nod. 'Yeah. So am I.' She was destroying him so easily. He hurt, his body was in so much agony just by _looking_ at her. Finally, Tōshirō ignored his pride, let his head fall. 'Why are you here?' He asked, desperation in his voice. _Stop doing this to me_.

'I came to find you.'

'You knew I'd be here.' It was a statement. Rangiku knew him well.

She reached out her hand to lightly touch his wounded face, skin rough at her fingertips. Tōshirō waited for a response, but she didn't comment. 'I knew you wouldn't be very far.' Her hand fell to his shoulder, and not a word was exchanged.

Tōshirō brought his arms around her, dipped his head beneath the umbrella, and embraced her. As soon as he felt her warmth, felt her against him, he struggled for a moment, before he finally let the tears come. They were soft, gentle, tickling his wound and scars. Hitsugaya broke, buried his face into her shoulder and wept silently, shaking in her arms. It was so clear, everything. _I'm so scared of losing you; I don't want to lose you, I don't want to lose you_.

He was such a broken, fragile thing. Rangiku felt nothing but relief, closing her eyes and resting her head against his. The rain pattered onto the surface of the umbrella, slid down, off the tips. Tōshirō raised himself slightly, just so he could speak, say something, a whisper, voice cracked: 'I think I'm in love with you.' Silence. That was all he needed to say. She ran a hand through his hair, tightened their embrace, let him hide for just a moment longer.

* * *

**author's note**: I like what I wrote, but what else can be written? Tempted to say this is the end, but blimey a lot still has to be resolved. Thank you **[ Guest ]**, **xminaxx**, **sagitgirlth**, **[ Guest ]**, **[ snarkyvigilante ]**, **kurgaya** and **[ neon flux ]**. When you all left feedback, it was wonderful so thank you.


	7. Blanket

Flowers For A Ghost  
**Chapter 7.**

* * *

'You're soaked.'

These were the first words exchanged between them since Hitsugaya's confession. Stepping inside Matsumoto's apartment, Tōshirō cringed at the mess he was making. His clothes dripped with water, pooling the carpet. Before he said anything, Rangiku had already claimed a towel to dry himself with. Tōshirō outstretched his hand to take it from her, but she instead ruffled his hair dry with the towel. Scrunching his eyes closed, Hitsugaya groaned in irritation, and when she removed the towel, he looked at her with a disgruntled expression.

She slid the towel around the back of his neck, smiling at his response. 'There's a good boy.'

'I'm not a dog,' he grumbled.

'You can strip out of your wet clothes in my room.'

'... I'm not walking around here naked.'

'Pfft, nothing I haven't seen before,' she teased, pushing him in the direction of her bedroom. 'I'll throw in a blanket, so you can have that to cover yourself in.'

Taking off his clothes seemed the wisest decision. Frowning at her, he reluctantly entered her room and began to strip. The material clung to his skin, so it was a little tricky. Soon, the man was down to his boxers. He had to admit, it was nice to be back here. Only two days ago, he and Rangiku had been holding each under the sheets, forgetting every single thing which made them miserable. It was the best time of his life; just being alone with Rangiku, and he would be extremely fortunate to share more mornings with her. Despite his thoughts to end whatever relationship they had, he still wanted her, and he made that quite clearly when he admitted he loved her.

As soon as his boxers were off, he yelled, 'Matsumoto, where's my blank––' He stopped short when she came into the room. 'Matsumoto, get out! I'm not–– Bloody Hell,' Blushing, he quickly hid his unmentionables with his hands. '_What_, Matsumoto? _What_?'

The Captain softened his expression slightly when he noticed she wasn't actually teasing him or playing around. A blue blanket was slung over her arm, and, despite his nakedness, her eyes were focussed on his face. Tōshirō narrowed his brows. 'It's been bugging me, Captain,' she started, 'Do you still intend to transfer me?'

It took him a moment to remember what she was referring to. Their row before, when he threatened her, tried to gain control of the situation. In his anger, he probably said a lot of silly things. A sigh escaped his lips and he shook his head. 'No, I don't, Matsumoto.' He straightened properly, hands at his sides. 'Anyway, who'd have the patience to tolerate you, except myself?' Tōshirō didn't mention the fact work wouldn't be the same without her, that she was the only person he'd want by his side.

'Then why did you say that?'

He swallowed, cocking his head back. 'I was angry, we both had a misunderstanding.' At first, he was going to step closer to grab the blanket, but changed his mind, his hand taking hold of her own. 'I say things I don't really mean when I'm angry, Matsumoto. Just a word of advice, but don't take everything I say to heart. Please don't do that.' It was how he had lost friends or allies in the past. Let his emotions speak before his mind. And in doing so, he almost lost her too.

'I don't like it when you're angry with me.'

'Yeah, I'm not fond of you being mad with me either–– Scary.'

Rangiku rolled her eyes. 'You found _that_ scary? You haven't seen me at my worst, Captain.'

'I hope I never do.' He was smiling at her. 'You're letting your hair grow.'

'Hm? Oh! Yes, I prefer it this way.'

'It's nice.'

Was he all right, throwing compliments at her? What was that all about? Unsure how to respond, Rangiku shoved the blanket into his arms. 'Put this on, kiddo.'

'Kiddo...? Oi, I'm not a kid!'

Laughing to herself, Matsumoto exited the bedroom. It was funny how he still got aggravated over being called a child, even though he looked nothing like one. She remembered during his years before becoming Captain, calling him "kiddo", actually _looking down on him_. He was a baby then, barely reaching her hips. That was such a long time ago now; Tōshirō was a good few inches taller than her, it was amazing how he grew, how he matured. She had been there all the way through, watched him age and learn, a constant shadow. Although she still missed the little Tōshirō, the one she knew now, while he was different, she could relate to him better. Talk to him, and listen. He _understood_.

Tōshirō wasn't perfect, yet his flaws were what made him wonderful to her. Yes, he had an anger problem, he could be aggressive and tire himself out with work, but she–– _loved_ that about him. She loved this fractured, exhausted soul. He knew what it was like to be abandoned, and he knew what it was like to lose a loved one. About a decade ago, she had noticed something was off about him and asked if he was all right. When she discovered his Grandmother had passed on, it was a shock for her. Although she had only met the elderly woman twice, she was aware she meant a great deal to Tōshirō. He had lost a part of him.

When Gin died, Matsumoto had also lost a part of her. Yet, in each other's company, Hitsugaya and Matsumoto managed to fill the gap, fill the hollow space in their hearts. It was a gradual process, but whenever she was around him, without work getting in the way, she could _feel_ herself healing. No one had treated her like Tōshirō had. He was nothing like Gin: he was loyal, not obsessed with revenge. Hitsugaya knew revenge was useless, it only bred further violence and misery. The Captain was also aware that he had no reason to leave Rangiku either, that he only had a life with her.

It took Tōshirō a couple of seconds to gather his wet clothes and wrap the blanket around himself. He also decided to keep his boxers on, too. 'Where should I put these?' He asked, holding up his wet belongings. Rangiku took them from him and chucked them into the sink. 'Hey, I need them to _dry_, y'know?'

'We can fiddle with that later,' she said, amused to witness her Captain just wearing a blanket. It was quite cute. 'I know what we can do.' Grabbing his hand, he led Tōshirō towards a seat before heading for the oven. 'You still like my cupcakes, don't you?'

'Sort of.' _Yes_. If Matsumoto was good at anything, it was baking cupcakes.

'You can help me make some then.'

Even though Tōshirō didn't enjoy being ordered around, he quite liked helping Rangiku bake cupcakes. It was so–– _simple_, such a normal thing to do, which just made it bizarre. When was the last time they did anything _normal_ together? She had him stirring the mix, while collecting the required ingredients. Scooping up the mix into the cups was the best part. Tōshirō dipped his finger into the mix when she wasn't looking, and widened his eyes. _That tastes like Heaven_. When he tried to taste some more, Rangiku caught him in the act, and lightly slapped his messy hand.

After slotting the cupcakes into the oven, Tōshirō turned to her, 'I get to eat the remains now, right?'

'You're meant to eat the actual _cupcakes_, not the mix.'

'Yeah, but... Mix does taste better.' Grabbing a spoon, he scraped the side of the bowl until he had a decent side portion. 'Try some.'

'I've tried some before, you know.'

'So? Waste not want not,' he pulled a crooked smile. 'If you're not having it, I'll have the whole bowl, and I'm fine with that.'

Matsumoto snatched the spoon off him, grabbed the bowl and walked away with both, licking the spoon. Annoyed at her prank, Tōshirō called after her, before wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her and the bowl to him. He smiled when she laughed, and soon forgot the real reason why he caught her this way. The smile faded a little, and he tightened his embrace around her.

It was probably the impact of his touch which made her want to distract themselves. Turning around, she filled the spoon with some of the mix and levelled it to his mouth. 'Here comes the aeroplane, open wide.'

'No way––'

'Ooh, if you don't open your mouth it's gonna crash!' And she wasn't joking. Matsumoto neared the spoon nearer his lips and he reluctantly opened his mouth to receive the sweet. 'Haha, you're such a baby still.' Tapping his nose playfully, Tōshirō pouted. This wasn't funny. She took another scoop and placed the bowl down, before facing him. 'Look, it's a train!'

'I highly doubt a train and a plane would be heading down the same path.'

'Well, this train is very special. It can fly.'

'Ah, that makes sense.' He pulled a face.

Matsumoto interpreted the noise a train made, and Hitsugaya had no choice but to open his mouth. However, Rangiku diverted the spoon's direction, the mix hitting his cheek. 'Oh no, the pilot is drunk at the wheel.'

'Trains don't have pilots, they have drivers–– Matsumoto, quit it! I've got mess over my face now.'

'Pilots, drivers–– same thing.'

'Oh, _sorry_. From now on, I shall bow to your superior wisdom. Give me the damn spoon.'

Rangiku grinned, moving her hand away from his. 'So rude. Children don't get any treats if they're rude.'

Jarring his teeth, Tōshirō tried to snatch the spoon off her, but Matsumoto kept her hand out of reach. 'You're _unbelievable_. Give me it.'

'You sound like a kid!'

'I want my spoon!'

'What's the magic word?'

'There is no _fucking_ magic word, Matsumoto!'

'Uh! Manners.' She tapped his nose. 'You're not getting anything until you say "please".'

He sighed heavily, pulled a face. 'Please.'

'Please what?'

'Please can I have the spoon?'

Rangiku raised herself slightly and pressed her lips to his, he tasted sweet, warm. Her arms came around his neck, spoon still in hand, and they kissed gently, slowly. Although she had kissed him before, Matsumoto could barely keep herself standing. The effect always left her breathless, and she was slightly surprised that, despite everything, they were kissing again. When Hitsugaya didn't move away, it was only confirmation that his feelings were genuine. In fact, he was just as eager, if not more so.

A free hand ran through his white hair, and she felt his arms glide up past her waist, spreading his hands over her back, her heart beat heavy against his own. It was only when Rangiku started to express further enthusiasm, her hands finding the blanket to pull it away, did Hitsugaya break the kiss.

Matsumoto needed a moment to come back to her senses. When she finally did, she looked at him in slight surprise. 'Uh...'

'Do I get my spoon now?'

'Spoon...?'

He motioned his head towards the spoon in her hand. Flustered, she handed it to him, and then turned away, unsure whether to feel angry or disappointed in herself. If being around him made her this affectionate, then what did that mean for them? Hitsugaya implied he no longer wanted to be with her, but hadn't he kissed her back? Admittedly, he did pull away, but only minutes afterwards.

Finishing off the mix, Tōshirō watched her, knowing what was wrong. 'We should talk.'

Those were the words she hated. It always resulted badly, always resulted in something horrible. _I hate words sometimes_. Yet if Hitsugaya wanted to do this, then maybe she should oblige. After all, he was usually right and, in all frankness, he managed to see through difficult matters better than she. That was what made him such a fantastic commanding officer. 'I know,' she said, looking at him. 'I don't know what to say.'

'That's a first,' he said, dropping the spoon into the bowl. 'Maybe we should start from what I said hours ago.' They both knew what he was referring to.

'You said many things today, Captain. You first said you wanted me gone, and then you said you loved me.' She stopped short. That was still odd to think about, that this man –– that _anyone_ –– could _love_ her. 'I know it sounds hypocritical, but can you make up your mind?'

'I made up my mind when you found me.'

'That's–– Captain, you know the consequences if we decide to be in a relationship. You made that perfectly clear. I shall leave my personal feelings out of this, so if you believe it'd be wise to.. step back, then I'll respect your choice. You are my superior officer.'

Tōshirō shrugged. 'You really think this has anything to do with work?'

'You focussed a lot on work, Captain, and I know that's what's stopping you.'

'It's not.'

'Plus, I know Gin's death has no effect on you. I know you dislike him, but––' _What am I trying to say? Why am I talking? I didn't even want to talk_! '––Can you live with the fact he is a part of me? That I still think about him?'

'I know you think about him all the time,' Hitsugaya said, nodding. _No, he couldn't_. He couldn't handle the fact that that _bastard_ was in her thoughts, that, despite ruining her, he still made her feel something. That, despite his death, he still mattered. 'I just wish you wouldn't think of me like him.'

'I'm trying not to––'

'You should also know that when I said I wasn't going anywhere, I meant it. To even assume that I would leave your side is ludicrous. I wouldn't even be here if I had no desire to stay with you. Why do you think I'm alone most of the time? It's because I don't really _like_ being around people. I prefer to attend to my own thoughts, prefer to get things done alone, would rather be alone. The fact I am with you now should say something. Matsumoto, I'd still be happy if I just had you in my life. _You_ make me happy.' _You **are** my_ happiness.

Rangiku was silent for a moment, and when she was about to respond, Tōshirō stopped her.

'I'm sorry for what I said; I just want us to forget about that. I've never been in this situation before, and I'd like you to respect that to a degree. I've not––' _Loved_, '––appreciated anyone as much as I do you, and I'm not quite sure how to deal with this. I just really don't want you to associate me with that man, Matsumoto. It actually hurts my feelings when you do that; I'm nothing like him, I don't _want_ to be like him.'

'I'm sorry.'

'I care about you so much.' Tōshirō couldn't believe what he was about to say, but he said it anyway. 'I'd do anything for you; I'd do anything to make you happy.'

'Stop,' she said, struggling to keep her cool. _I hate talking things through_.

Of course he did stop, but he was going to hold his ground as well. 'Fine, but that's how I feel, and I think you should know.' He sighed, relieved to have got that off his chest, even if he felt a little embarrassed. It was awkward being so open, but he trusted Rangiku wouldn't abuse this moment, that she would think about what he said. 'We should check on those cupcakes, don't you think?'

Rangiku had completely forgotten about the cupcakes. Anything to end this, to distract her mind worked for her. Nodding shortly, she brushed past him, slightly dazed. She didn't know how to digest what he said, she didn't know how to react, if she should say she loved him too. What struck her the most was that she was _hurting_ him, and she had no idea. She was so oblivious, so_ selfish_. So lost in the past, she couldn't live the present, and that was unfair for Hitsugaya. That was harsh and cruel.

Shoving on her oven mitts, she removed the tray from the oven and placed it atop, checking the cupcakes. Hitsugaya joined her, and he curiously prodded a finger into one of them. Matsumoto gave him a look. 'That one's yours,' she muttered.

'I'm fine with that.'

They were done, and ready to be eaten. Unfortunately Rangiku didn't have the correct ingredients to create icing or decorations, so they would have to make do. Tōshirō helped her pile the cupcakes onto a plate, and together they headed into the small living area, sat on the sofa and shared the cakes. Rangiku wasn't hungry, though, but she was relieved to see Hitsugaya was enjoying their baking. He had always been fond of her cupcakes, even if he didn't like to admit it.

She wiped a crumb away from the side of his mouth with her thumb. 'I love you.'

Tōshirō stopped midchew. Mouth full, he turned to her. 'What?'

'No one's ever cared about me as much as you,' she said quietly, and he almost choked when he noticed she was about to cry. However, Rangiku wasn't going to burst into tears. The amount of times he had made her cry was enough, and she wouldn't let his words get to her this much. 'Thank you.'

'Are you all right?'

'Mm-Hm,' she snuggled close to him.

Tōshirō smiled a little. 'I don't think I care about the consequences anymore.'

'That was fast.'

'More, _confusing_.'

'At least something has you puzzled,' she said, a hand at his chest.

Silence fluttered around the two for a couple of minutes, and she listened to his heart beat, gentle, gradual, relaxed. For as long as she was alive, she hoped that heart would never stop, hoped that even when her own had given in, his would still continue. Keeping him alive, keeping him here.

'Ran?'

Her nickname. She smiled. 'Yes?'

'These cupcakes are delicious,' Tōshirō said, biting into another.

* * *

It had stopped raining the following morning. The two had shared the same bed, but they just hugged each other, and with his arms around her, Rangiku slept instantly. She awoke suddenly, listened to him breathe, sleep, before carefully slipping out of bed. The dream she had was vivid, but not frightening. A memory, very real. It haunted her slightly but she felt okay, a little uncertain, but okay.

She didn't want to wake up Tōshirō. He looked so peaceful, it would be cruel of her to disturb him. Instead she claimed a sheet of paper and quickly left a note, informing him she would be out for a while. Yet she would return to him. Grabbing her coat, she slipped it on and left her apartment.

The dream came to mind again, of his grin, his boyish face. Curious expression, and unusual question. _"When's your Birthday?"_ And she was there in the dream, young, terribly young, and the memory seemed to rip apart. Wanting to be burnt and forgotten. _"I don't know. I never really counted the days until I met you."_ It was funny that she still counted, still remembered the days, months and years.

After twenty minutes, she had a bouquet of flowers in her hand. The grave was waiting for her, name engraved into the stone. She hesitated at first, gazing at the various colours of petals, swirling the bouquet in her hands so it made a sort of pattern. Then, she knelt down and placed the bouquet before the grave, before straightening herself.

'I didn't know Ichimaru liked flowers.'

She turned, watching Hitsugaya near her. Maybe she shouldn't be surprised that he knew she was here. It felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders when Tōshirō brought his arms around her. 'I don't know if he does. He never really spoke about himself.' She leaned into him, let the silence hover around them again.

This wasn't like last time. Last time, she could barely stand, could barely focus. Today, she felt calm, at ease. Him beside her made that much of a difference and he didn't move away, didn't hesitate, didn't scold. He stayed. _  
_

'I'm sure he'll like them.'

_Tōshirō wasn't going anywhere._

* * *

**End.**

* * *

**author's note**: To be honest, I didn't want everything to be solved. It would take a while, but these two can work it out between them. I just wanted to _leave it be_. In this chapter, they managed to look past their differences and focus on what really mattered. Tōshirō opening up was important, even if he did it wearing only boxers and a blanket. Did you like the reference to the title at the end? I thought it was also important that Hitsugaya was there with Matsumoto to let her place flowers at Gin's grave. He might not like him, but at least he's accepting that Gin is a part of her. These two are such bakas, but I love them.

* * *

Acknowledgements:

1) Tite Kubo owns _Bleach_ and its wonderful characters, as we all know.

2) Thank you for all of your reviews and feedback! Honesty is wonderful, and just support in general is the best thing one can recieve. I loved reading your thoughts; they really made me smile. Thanks to you, I have another story completed, and I do feel encouraged to write another on these two. We shall just have to wait and see ;)

3) My kittehs always deserve an acknowledgement. I should stop calling them kittens, they're adults, but they're so small and cute gaah.


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